Ghost Soldier
by willwrite4fics
Summary: What happens to a soldier who dies but continues to serve? Character Death- but returned in ghost form. Another BeachHead oriented fic, including many Joes. AU- unrelated to my other fics. BH/CG SE/S Flint/LJ Some Humor, some Angst. Chapter 1 is M-rated.
1. Chapter 1

Something different, this is an AU story, and thus does not fit in with any of my other stories. Yes, CHARACTER DEATH, but with the twist of him returning. It's one of the odd ideas that grew in my head until I caved and typed it out, and it's since grown to a full fledged story.

Once you get past the actual death, it's going to be somewhat humorous, although there's some touching moments that might illicit a sniffle.

Standard Disclaimer, I do not own GI Joe, and I make no money from the writing I do. Please enjoy and review if you so desire.

* * * * Caution Death Scene* * * *

BeachHead struggled to gasp.. he was drowning.. in the middle of a desert he was managing to drown, ironic and annoying at the same time. Everything had simply gone dark so quickly, and he'd fallen down.. he was certain he'd fallen down. Hawk's voice kept fading in and out nearby, shouting at him. Couldn't the man see he'd fallen down? Why wouldn't he pull him out of the stupid water.. why didn't he feel wet?

He shuddered, struggling suddenly even though he couldn't quite grasp what was wrong.. why was he so cold...

"Ha..hawk..?" He distinctly felt his body lifted as someone sat him up some. With the movement came a few breaths of air. There was no water.. he wasn't in water.. he felt sand trickling between his fingers.. something wet and warm under his tactical vest.. he was soo lightheaded.. did he really faint? He'd be really embarrassed if he'd fainted out here.. there was a battle to finish up.. greenshirts to count the heads of and see who he'd be writing letters home for...

"Beach.. hang on.. blazes.. MEDIC!! MEDIC!! Get over here! Someone get a blasted medic here! BeachHead.. hey.. stay with me.."

He felt himself blink and swore he could almost see light.. shadows moved near him. "..d-don't... " Beach suddenly began to fade, he was barely aware of his vest being pulled open, it was like he just needed to rest.. just for a moment.. the battle was over.. just some mopping up.. he could just lie still and rest.. "..s-sooo.. tired.."

"BEACH!! NO! Stay with me.. " Hawk sounded pretty upset.. but he'd get over it.. Beach'd explain later, he just needed a minute to rest.. just ... just a minute.. then he'd get up..

...everything just seemed to fade out.. the little hazy bits of light went away.. the fact that he couldn't seem to get enough air didn't seem important.. just.. just a little rest.. then it'd be okay....

* * * *

Lifeline sprinted up, dropping to the ground next to General Hawk. "How bad is it?"

Hawk looked at him, despair written across his face. "You're too late.. it just took a minute.. he's gone.. the round went right through his vest.. just walked right through it.. it must have been a high powered rifle.."

The medic dragged the limp body out of his arms and pulled the vest and torn open shirt aside. "You don't know that! It's not too late! I just got word you needed me! Come on Beach!" He did a sternum rub. "Come on!!" He ignored the cooling skin and placed his palms over the bloody chest to begin compressions. The first two compressions caused blood to pour out of the ridiculously small hole. He stopped.. looking at the oozing blood. "Oh... god no..." He reached to flash his penlight into the dully unresponsive eyes. Both pupils were wide and didn't react. "Oh god no.. "

Hawk placed a hand on his shoulder. "He's gone.. you can't help him.. " He got to his feet and gazed around, bringing his attention back to the battlefield. "Someone give me a status report.." He paused and looked down at the body next to the distraught medic. "Someone... someone carry Beach off the field.. don't leave him out here. Lifeline.. other people need you. Go see to them." He walked away, numbly forcing his attention where needed.

Lifeline struggled to get to his feet. Then he bent and pulled the shirt closed.. refastening the useless tac vest carefully. "You guys take care of him.." He resolutely turned his face away, looking for his medical bag. He trotted away, leaving two corpsmen to gather up the body and remove it.

* * * *

The sniper bullet had taken the Sergeant Major through the chest.. blowing apart one of the major arteries on top of the heart. He'd bled out so quickly that he'd been fading before he ever finished hitting the ground. Hawk had been looking right at him, amused at the quick happy expression the man had been sporting under that ever-present balaclava. BeachHead wasn't ever as pleased as he was in battle, and this one had gone so very well. Casualties had been very light, the Cobra forces had been routed and been in full retreat. It had been all but over when one left-behind Cobra sniper had taken the brief opportunity to snuff out a life with a tiny piece of steel jacketed lead.

He'd never given any real expression of pain.. just looked confused. The tiny puff that had erupted from his chest had almost looked like some prankster had tossed a pebble at him. When the blood had immediately started to stain the hole, Hawk had realized his sergeant had been shot. Even then, no one, not even Beach, had been thinking the worst. The man wore a tactical vest all the time, he'd been half blown apart on multiple occasions, shot many times, stabbed too much to keep track of, and on one singular occasion, he'd been run over by a truck. This was just a minor thing.. just a tiny hole in his vest.. then he'd fallen over... then he'd gasped for air.. bled bright rich red blood all over Hawk's fingers as he'd tried to stop it.. struggled to live.. and then he'd just died. Right there. Just suddenly slipped away like a sliver of soap in the water.. slipped right out from Hawk's fingers.. like the slick blood that had finally stopped flowing.. not because he was okay, but because he'd already pumped it all out through that stupidly harmless looking hole.

Lifeline had been the one to tell CoverGirl.. she'd ended up in the infirmary, sedated to stop her hysteria. SnakeEyes disappeared and no one could locate him. Duke was holding the day-to-day things together, and Hawk had to deal with the regular questions and reports to all the military big-wigs who wanted to know what was happening.. Sergeant Major BeachHead's death was just a number on a report to the brass.

His funeral was brief, but attended by most of GI Joe. Every member that could make it there attended, a few members of other military groups appeared. Right before they were to carry his casket to the graveside, SnakeEyes appeared, in full military dress uniform, and took a spot as a pallbearer. No one ever asked him where he'd been.

For someone who was supposed to have been so universally disliked, he was missed so very badly. All his normal duties were distributed among the others. The greenshirt brigades had been coming undone at the loss of their leader. Duke had taken over the morning PT sessions himself for a while, until some of the other instructors could take certain days.. taking on bits and parts of the duties so that everything could continue. Life went on.

Lifeline and Covergirl spent a lot of time together. She came to ask to be taken off medical leave and went back to work in the motorpool. It had taken a week before Clutch could manage to make even the smallest sexual comment to her.. and he'd promptly ended up in the infirmary with a wrench shaped dent in his head.

Lifeline brooded a lot and Doc spent a lot of time listening to him. Psyche-Out kept pretty busy listening to a lot of people feeling guilty over things they couldn't change, and wouldn't have if they'd actually had the chance.

Life.. moved on. The empty spot left behind filled in. Stalker stepped up to take over many of his old duties. There was no replacement.. just a subtle rearranging that made the hole lessen.

Then something happened. Hawk came back from the last of the conferences with politicians and judges and generals. He was just taking off his jacket and hanging it up when he dipped a hand into a pocket and drew out a battered set of dog tags. He turned them over in his hand for a moment, missing the wearer rather intently. No matter what was bothering Hawk.. if he got too brooding, he'd taken himself to BeachHead.. griped and bitched to him.. listened to the gruff voice telling him to suck it up and do his job.. and gone back to his work.. knowing that at least someone understood he was frustrated.. understood he'd still do his job no matter what. He always could depend on Beach not to go talk to Flint or Duke.. he knew the man was loyal as a hound and would walk through fire just on his orders.

It was just such a shame that right when he'd been unwinding himself and beginning to let himself relax and enjoy his life, he'd been killed. There. Hawk had said it inside his head to himself. Killed. Dead. Gone. He sighed and looked at the tags on the tarnished chain. He wasn't sure why he'd kept the dog tags. Just couldn't quite let go of them. He supposed he should have made sure they were still on the body when it was interred.. but somehow it hadn't seemed important. It had been more important to get him interred in Arlington National Cemetery where he belonged. There'd been some argument.. some bit of paperwork or technicality that had threatened to delay the burial. Hawk had gone into the offices and informed them that his man was being buried there.. even if he had to go fetch a shovel and dig the hole himself. One look at his face had sent all the clerks into a frenzy of stamping and writing, typing up of new files. And Sergeant Major Wayne Sneeden was buried with appropriate honors, where Hawk had chosen to put him.

He sighed and tucked the dog tags into the coat pocket again. Duke, Flint, Doc and Breaker were due to arrive within moments for another meeting. It would be another meeting where one chair was left empty because no one wanted to be the first to move it aside.. or god forbid.. sit in it. Instead everyone avoided looking at the empty reminder of the absent man, and no one moved it or changed it. Eventually they'd do something about it. But not yet.....

* * * *

Duke slid a copy of his report to Hawk across the table. "I put in the requisition for half a dozen new AWEStrikers.. and also for two Maulers. Clutch says at least four Maulers are not fit for repair at this time. CoverGirl argues that she can get at least one up and running though."

Hawk nodded, fingering the report. "How's she doing?"

Duke looked over at Flint. The warrant officer had taken over the position of representative for the enlisted members. He was supposed to be the go-between for the enlisted and the officers.. something that BeachHead had always done, never making either side happy.

Flint gave a little shrug. "About as well as expected. She's grieving, but she's working." He smiled a little bit. "Clutch and Shipwreck have both made a few trips to the infirmary to get stitches and treated for concussions."

Doc snorted. "They got little sympathy for it either. Between the nurses and Lifeline, they'd almost rather just deal with the pain than come get treated."

Hawk gave a nod to Breaker. "What's the security report? Last night there were some glitches reported in the outer layer of the sensors?"

Breaker nodded. "Just glitches.. the network is fully active."

"Naw, it's not.. there's a gap on the northeast wall, sector sixteen, level three. There's an AC leak shorting out a panel.. gotta get it fixed, or it'll continue to be a gap in the defenses."

Everyone froze. There was no mistaking that southern drawl, nor the slightly sarcastic tone as he corrected the errant communications officer. Hawk looked over at the not-so-empty chair.

"BeachHead?"

* * * *

End Chapter:

Yes.. so that's the set up. How's it looking? There will be quite a bit of Hawk, and it will(obviously) be a BH/CG fic as well. Later on you'll even get to see some Cobra. Hope you enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2: Convincing

Chap 2

First thank you to Karama9 who said I should go ahead and start posting this story without waiting until a later point. I'm very glad that it's so well received, and especially happy to see so many readers that like BeachHead so much that they're upset to see him die(even though he returns as a ghost).

A few quick points...

Totenkinder - You made me laugh so hard at the image of Beach scaring the Grim Reaper. Kudos.

BeachHead IS dead, gone dead. Dead-dead. It's not a dream, it wasn't a clone, it wasn't a double. The original live BeachHead was shot and died on the battlefield, his body was buried, and will stay buried. There's no trick, so no worries that I'll suddenly have him wake up at the end having it be some dream after bad gumbo. The fic is about him as a ghost, so he's dead.

I won't go into the 'between' time, no visions of angels, no chat with God, no hedonistic party with scandalized Valkyries(what a plot bunny that would be..). I'm avoiding any of that to avoid the religious part, as I don't want to deal with theology. It's a GI Joe fic about a ghost, not a debate about who's right about what happens when we die. So when the characters talk about where he should be, it's going to be generic "gone to your reward", "gone to the other side" or "passed the veil" type refereances. None of these are in regard to any particular religious view.

Thank you all for the awesome reviews and I hope you continue to enjoy. (Yes, I'm also working on Vacation, and no, I haven't forgotten our favorite Little Medic either!)

Now that you're thoroughly bored with the author's forward, on to the actual fic!

* * * *

"BeachHead?"

There was a brief instant where time seemed to stop. The familiar balaclava covered face turned to look at the General.

"Yes sir?"

Hawk felt his breath catch.. and suddenly everyone moved at once. Flint's chair overturned as he bolted halfway across the room getting away, Duke jumped out of his chair and backed up.. Breaker was standing next to the doorway, staring, his gum swallowed in his startlement. Even Doc's normally ebony face was ashen in shock. They all stared at the now empty chair.

Hawk swallowed slowly. "Everyone else just saw that right?" There was a murmur of agreement. "What the blazes is going on?"

Duke shook his head, unable to pull his eyes away from the chair.. was it pushed back ever so slightly? "I don't know sir, but I saw it... saw him.. clear as day."

Hawk stepped back another step and bumped his coat hook. He turned to grab at it and realized it was just his jacket swaying from him bumping it.

"A'course you seen me.. what? Didja go blind?"

Hawk whirled around and stared. "Beach? Is that you?" He felt foolish.. talking to a dead man but he was seated there in his usual chair.

"Who else would it be? The easter bunneh?" The hard brown eyes seemed to glint in annoyance at them. "What's wrong with you lot? We got the rest of this meeting to get through.. I dunno about the rest of ya'll, but I got stuff to do."

Flint shook his head. "This can't be happening.. we've.. we've obviously all been exposed to something.. maybe a gas?"

The sergeant major suddenly turned his head as if listening to something. "I gotta go.. somethin's happenin' in the environmental section.." He got up and strode out suddenly.. only he never opened the door. He passed right through it.

Everyone stood around stunned. Duke reached out and pushed the empty chair back into place. "Okaaaay, what was that? Why... why did we all just see BeachHead?"

Doc suddenly pointed around the room. "Show of hands.. who saw Beachhead?" Everyone raised their hands. "Heard him?" All the hands stayed up. "We have a real issue going on.. either we've all gone mad with the same delusion or we have a real bona fide ghost haunting the Pit."

Breaker's communicator went off softly. He held it up. "Breaker here."

A worried voice came over. "Mainframe here.. there's something funky goin' on with the computer core.. we got some heat build up."

Breaker lifted the comm unit. "Check the cooling tower in... " He paused and exchanged a look with the others. "... in environmental sector." They all waited.

Mainframe sounded relieved. "The cooling tower was overheating.. but someone just rerouted the flow.. all the temps are dropping. Sorry to interrupt your meeting, everything is fine."

Breaker looked pale. "Okay.. keep me posted..." He clicked it off.

"It was just a jammed valve. Danged new kids don't bother actually checkin' nothin' down there."

They all turned to stare at the vague shadowy shape. It moved to the chair and settled downward, slowly solidifying into the familiar figure again. Hawk noticed that the edges seemed slightly fuzzy.

He stepped forward in a quick movement, only to be blocked by Flint. "Stop sir! We don't know what's going on yet.. it could be some sort of projection.."

BeachHead looked annoyed. "What are you blabbering on about?"

Flint lunged at him, grabbing at his torso, and watching as his hands passed through him, trailing just a hint of smokey mist as his fingers pulled through the seemingly solid figure. BeachHead jumped backwards out of the chair which slid backwards as Flint turned pale. "Holy jeeeeez... it feels cold and damp... there's nothing there!"

BeachHead shouted angrily at him. "Don't touch me! What's wrong with you!" The lights dimmed just slightly, just enough to notice. "Ya'll act like you've never seen me before!"

Hawk shook his head at him. Doc suddenly blurted out loudly. "You're DEAD! I know you are! I know it!"

"Shut up! What a stupid thing to say to a guy! What'd I ever do ta you ta make you so mad at me, Doc!?" BeachHead jerked himself back another step as Flint advanced on him a second time. "Stay away from me!"

Doc moved around the table at him. "You're dead.. I saw you dead.. what's going on?" As he stepped forward to reach for the figure, the Ranger whirled and darted away through the wall, disappearing again.

Everyone stood still for a moment. Hawk spoke first. "No one talks about this outside this room."

Doc looked at the wall, hesitantly putting his hand onto it to feel a normal solid wall. "No worries.. if I told anyone, they'd put me in the loony bin..."

Duke shook his head. "A ghost? BeachHead? Hawk.. what are we going to tell the rest of the team?"

Hawk leveled his gaze on everyone. "Nothing. Not yet. Everyone go about your duties.. no one mentions this.. " He paused. "Not to anyone, at all."

He watched the group disperse out the door, but Doc stopped and looked at him seriously. "Talk to Psyche-Out.. he might have more insight than we do.. if nothing else, he should know if we've all gone crazy at once."

"Thanks.. I'll do that." Hawk closed the door and looked at that empty chair, now pushed slightly askew as if leaving proof that it wasn't just some mental delusion. "What the blazes is going on?"

* * * *

Hawk walked into the office of the team psychologist. "Psyche-Out.. we have a problem.." He shut the door behind him. "BeachHead is haunting the Pit. No, I'm not insane, everyone else saw him. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Psyche-Out stood for a second, then finished setting the books onto his shelf. Motioning for Hawk to seat himself, he sat into his desk chair and thought. "Ahhh.. you think you're seeing a ghost?"

Hawk gritted his teeth. "No. I know I saw a ghost. Duke, Flint, Breaker, and Doc all saw him too. Bold as day. He even talked just like his old self.. but he's not 'there'. He vanished three times. Once he just disappeared when we all jumped.. cause you know.. there was a danged GHOST in the room.. but then just a minute later he answered us, and poof he was back." He looked at the doctor. "I'm not crazy.. but the situation is. He's a ghost.. because I KNOW he's dead.. he died right there on that battlefield in my arms.. died.. bled out and died. We buried him."

Now the psychologist looked a little stymied. "Maybe I need to talk to Doc..."

"You can talk to me! I'm NOT crazy! He was there! He took off, walked THROUGH the closed door.. and then reappeared a few minutes later. How do we deal with this? How ... what am I supposed to tell the other Joes? Good lord.. what do we tell CoverGirl?!?" He sat back suddenly. "What do we do with a ghost that WAS our command sergeant major? Do ghosts have rank? Will he.. fade away or stick around for the next hundred years? What do ghosts do?"

Psyche-Out held up a hand. "First... we deal with the facts. You think he's a ghost and haunting us.. is it possible it's some sort of trick? A projection.. holographic technology?"

Hawk hummed to himself. "I.. I don't think so. I think Breaker would be up to date on that possibility.. and Flint touched him. He didn't like that AT ALL.. but Flint said he felt like fog..wet but nothing there. I saw his hand go right through BeachHead.. and it's BeachHead. You can't imitate him."

"Okaaaay... so.. where is the ghost now?" Psyche-Out was in a real quandary. The worst case a psychologist could possibly be in was that the commanding officer goes mad. There was no higher ups to appeal to, not legitimately. The level of secrecy that the team stayed under meant that there was no authority to call up on the phone. His best bet was to go along with this until a better course of action showed up.

"I don't know.. he was in the office.. and.. and Doc told him he was dead and he got irate, argued a little, then walked through the wall and disappeared."

"But you haven't seen him anywhere other than your office yet?"

"Noo.. but he went to the environmental control section because he changed a setting there. The cooling tower was overheating.. he berated Breaker about that too. Have you ever been scolded by a dead man? I mean, does he have any authority if he's dead?" Psyche-Out blinked at Hawk who took a deep breath. "I know.. I KNOW!! It's crazy.. but I'm not! He's real! Or.. well.. he's a real ghost!"

Psyche-Out stood up. "Well. first things first. Let's go have me meet this ghost and maybe I can see what it wants. We can't make a plan of action or anything until we have more information." He motioned Hawk out ahead of him and followed after the upset general.

In Hawk's offices, there was the table that meetings took place at and his personal office to one side. The table still had a few folders lying on it, non-sensitive material like requisition reports and the like. Psyche-Out carefully looked around the empty room while Hawk waited.

"Ahhh, yes. Is... is the ghost here now?" He tried to keep his tone very even and not disparaging in any way.

Hawk wasn't fooled in the least and answered him scathingly. "No. Do you SEE a ghost?"

"Okay, it's not that I'm doubting you. I don't know how ghosts do these things. Would you like to.. umm.. call the ghost? Or is there some thing you can do to make him appear?" Psyche-Out noted that there wasn't any food or drink, nor any hint of odors in the air to hint at some sort of poison or drug that could result in the delusions.

"I don't know! It's not like I was standing here calling a dead guy! Do you want me to try to call him by name or something?" Psyche-Out shrugged at him and Hawk sighed and looked at the ceiling. "BeachHead? Are you in here?"

"Yes sir?" Both of them whirled around to stare at the figure. "Why is everyone so jumpy? What's going on that I don't know about?" He gave Psyche-Out a suspicious glare. "What's the shrink want?"

Psyche-Out walked closer very slowly. "Umm.. BeachHead?" He reached towards him slowly and the Ranger backed away, giving him a wary look. "I just want to make sure it's you... it's okay.."

BeachHead backed up several steps. "Don't touch me! Hawk.. did you need something from me? I'm busy."

Hawk looked at the doctor for help. "Uhh.. I needed to.. to have you talk with Psyche-Out.."

With that opening, the confused physician took a couple steps closer, making the dead Ranger shift his weight uneasily. "Yes.. BeachHead.. umm.. you're busy? What are you doing?"

Beach blinked at him. "What am I doin? I'm... uhh.. I was..." He looked at the floor, mulling the seemingly simple question over. "I'm.. checking on things... yeah. Checking to make sure things are running okay.. I guess... I guess I'm not real busy." He suddenly seemed a little confused. "What do you need?"

"What were you just doing? Just now before Hawk called you here?"

Beach frowned. "Well.. I was.. I.. it wasn't.. he.." The confusion deepened. "I dunno.. I can't remember.. " He looked at Hawk suddenly. "Sir.. I can't remember.. what's wrong with me?" He reached up to rub at his head through the cloth headgear. "I was.. I should have been up top.. groundside.. what time is it?"

Hawk spoke to him in a remarkably calm tone. "Beach.. you're dead. I'm sorry.. but.. you really did die.. I don't know why you're here now.."

"I am not dead! Do I LOOK dead?" The ghost seemed to get more upset. "Why do you think that? Is it some sort of joke? Play some stupid prank on stupid BeachHead?! Trying to make out like I'm crazy?"

Psyche-Out stepped forward. "BeachHead.. calm down. No one thinks you're crazy."

"No, you think I'm dead!"

"I'm very sorry that you're upset.. maybe you should sit down?" Psyche-Out motioned towards a chair. "Sit here and talk with Hawk and I for a few minutes." He backed up a few steps to reassure him. "It's okay.. really. Look.. I'll sit over here, I won't try to touch you."

"Okay.. I guess.. just a few minutes though." BeachHead looked distracted but settled into the chair. As he'd always done when he was alive, he hitched the chair just a single inch to the left. He'd always done it, just an odd move that Psyche-out had noticed as a mental quirk.. because no matter where you put the chair, the Ranger ALWAYS hitched it just slightly aside. He very suddenly was convinced that this was indeed BeachHead.. not a fabrication.. not a fake, not a projection or trick or someone in some sort of technology.

He turned to Hawk. "It IS him. I don't know how.. but this is really BeachHead."

The almost expected sarcastic reply came from the far side of the table. "Of course it's me.. did you guys reeeally think that someone was pretending to be me? Or are we back to the ridiculous 'Beach is dead' story?"

Hawk sighed. "BeachHead.. do you trust me?"

"Of course Sir."

"I am going to tell you the absolute truth.. just facts. I swear to you, I held your body. I watched you die. I buried you, we were all at the services." He stared at the Ranger who sat expressionless for a moment.

"You.. buried me?"

"Yes. I did. I made all the arrangements myself. I even flew on the transport with your body."

He thought that over, shifted himself around a bit, then finally fixed his gaze on the general. "Where'd you bury me?"

"Arlington National. On a hill. You're next to two other Rangers, it's a nice spot." Hawk sat and watched his sergeant major thinking that over. "I thought you'd rather be buried there than back in Alabama.. and we couldn't find a family member to say differently."

Beach snorted loudly. "If you'd have planted me in some Alabama dirt lot, I'd make you go dig me up." He looked at Psyche-Out. "This is a really bizarre conversation to have. I don't feel dead. A little confused and maybe creeped out.. cause you guys insist I'm dead and Hawk's talking about burying me.. but I certainly don't feel dead."

Psyche-Out nodded. "I understand.. it's decidedly odd to me too, and I've had some real doozys of conversations with people before.. but of course, they were deluded and this time.. I'm down the rabbit hole with everyone else."

The ghost leaned back in the chair, and Psyche-Out watched the chair tilt backwards to balance on two legs for a second, then tip back down, clicking softly as the front legs touched down. "Did you go to my funeral?"

"Yes.. nearly everyone did. We had to draw lots from people to decide who had to stay behind." Psyche-Out itched to reach out.. the figure looked so real, so solid. He was having trouble convincing himself that it wasn't a real live person. He'd assisted with the autopsy and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the man seated across the table was dead and buried.. and also right there talking with him. "It was a very nice service. Short, without any drama or stuff you wouldn't like."

"That's good." Now the figure leaned forward and propped his chin in a hand. "Sooo.. what's your theory? How come I'm here, if I'm buried?"

Hawk sighed. "I think it's because you're too stubborn to quit working, even if you are dead. Shouldn't you.. I don't know, 'go into the light'?"

"I must have missed that part. I don't remember any light."

Psyche-Out picked up a file folder to turn around in his hands. "Do you remember the battle? Being on the battlefield near the end?"

Beach began to look blankly across the room, searching his memory. "Yesss.. I was just done reporting to Hawk.. about the left flank, that we'd mopped it up on that side, but that I'd sent half a platoon of greenshirts under Miller over to help Flint on his side. He still had a couple pockets of Vipers holed up giving him grief." He smiled suddenly under the balaclava. "CoverGirl wanted to take the Wolverine over and pulverize them, but you didn't want to cause that much damage to the area, said that Flint could take care of it on ground level. I radioed and told her to take it back to the rear guard. I'm pretty sure she was cursing a blue streak." He looked at Hawk. "Wasn't there something about.. you sent me to check on Falcon and the other raw recruits? It's sort of hazy.. I think you were telling me that.. did I go?"

Hawk took a slow breath in, remembering every vivid detail. "No. I was giving you orders to go get me a situation report from them, but you never left. You were killed."

Beach hummed and pushed a file across the tabletop a little bit with one finger. "So.. I got killed. How'd I get killed? Cobra was pretty well done for."

Hawk's voice was quiet. "Sniper. He put a steel jacketed round through your tac vest. It cut one of those big veins on your heart and you bled out within a minute or so. It was as if you died before you finished falling on the ground." He saw BeachHead's skin go pale suddenly. "What? Are you alright?"

Beach sat upright. "No.. no, I wasn't dead. I fell down. I remember.. I remember falling down and being cold.. and... I couldn't breathe." His form suddenly faded to an indistinct outline.

Hawk jumped to his feet. "BeachHead! No!"

The form looked at him and slowly regained color and form. "Sorry... I'm not used to being dead."

Psyche-Out stood up slowly and walked around to look at him. "Can.. can I touch you? I want to show you that you're not solid." Beach nodded at him and held out a hand, watching dispassionately as the doctor's passed his own hand through it. "Flint was right.. you feel like fog."

BeachHead stared at his hand. Then he reached out and grasped the man's hand in his. "No.. I feel like me." Psyche-out thought seriously about passing out. The grip on his hand was firm and made his whole arm tingle.

"P-please.. please BeachHead.. leggo.." He began to pant involuntarily. "Please stop..." He felt himself begin to get lightheaded.

BeachHead turned loose and gazed at him. "Sorry. Does it hurt when I do that?"

Psyche-Out shook his hand a little. "Not really.. it tingled.. you just startled me." Trying to get past his unreasonable fear, he sat on the edge of the table to look at the Ranger sitting there placidly.. being dead. "How do you feel?"

"Alright.. I guess." Beach scratched his head a little and then looked back at him frankly. "Am I gonna disappear or something? I mean.. if I'm really dead.. and I'm not doubting your word Hawk, sir. But if I'm dead.. shouldn't I have gone 'somewhere'? There's not tons of ghosts walking around, so I must have done something wrong when I.. uh. When I died."

Hawk got up and came to look at him. "I don't know. Everything I always read said that ghosts were people who died with unfinished business.. something they felt they needed to do, or a message that they felt some driving need to pass on." He bit his lip a second thinking. "Do you feel any.. burning need to do something? Or.. maybe tell someone something?"

"Nope."

"Well.. hmm." Hawk thought about it. "I think I need to talk to Psyche-Out for a moment. Could you.. umm.. not listen?" BeachHead narrowed his eyes. "You stay here.. and I'll be right back.. okay?"

"Yes sir."

"Stay here."

"Yes sir."

"Okay.. uhh.." Hawk nodded to the psychologist. "We can go talk in my office." He ushered him in, then paused at the door to look at Beach. "Just.. stay there.. don't go do anything or go away.. unless you know.. you see a light or something."

"Got it. Stay here unless I go into a light." Beach seemed distracted and sat still with his hands resting on the table. Hawk closed the door and looked at Psyche-Out.

The tall physician looked completely out of it. "It's definitely BeachHead.. and I know he's dead. I assisted Doc with the autopsy.. I removed the bullet out of his chest, saw the torn up arteries on his heart. Geez.. I weighed his heart myself. I KNOW he's dead. That out there is a ghost. A real one.. and it's BeachHead, it's no fake.. no one can fake a person that well, not even Zartan."

Hawk sat down. "What do we do? If he starts just walking around the Pit.. half the team will freak out, and the other half will consider themselves section 8. I can't just tell him.. 'Hey sorry but you're dead, you no longer have clearance to be here.. have a nice death'. It's BEACHHEAD! He'll do whatever it is he thinks he should be doing whether he's dead or not."

Psyche-Out pressed his lips together. "I know this'll sound really out there.. but.. what if he's here because he never realized that he died?"

Hawk snorted. "Like he was busy and just didn't notice? Wait.. that's kind of what he said.. but he knows now. We just proved it, and convinced him.. so does that mean he'll just disappear?" Suddenly the general leapt up and rushed to open his office door and peer out, speaking to the figure. "No.. everything is fine. Stay there..you haven't seen any lights, have you? Okay." He closed the door. "He's still there."

"What about if he didn't get to say goodbye? What if it's that he didn't want to leave without a chance to talk to someone one last time?"

They both said it at the same time. "CoverGirl." Hawk continued. "But.. what can we do? We can't bring her in here and say that Beach is back just for a minute to say goodbye. She had to be sedated when she was told he was dead."

Psyche-Out suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know.. we can let him write her a letter. When we give it to her, we can say it's from him, like it was on file in case something happened to him. He'll feel as if he's told her whatever he needed to.. and then he'll pass on to the other side. What do you think?"

Hawk crossed his arms. "Okay.. I don't see that it can hurt. This is so hard.. because I really want him back. But he DESERVES that whole rest in peace thing. If anyone deserves some peace, it's him." He grabbed up a notepad and pen. "Okay.. no time like the present.."

They walked back in and found him still seated and staring at the opposite wall. Hawk shivered when he noticed he could distinctly see the arm of the chair through BeachHead's torso. "Okay.. we, that is, Psyche-Out and I, think you need to say good bye..."

BeachHead looked at the floor. "I don't blame you.. I wouldn't want dead guys hanging around neither."

Hawk shook his head. "No.. not like that." He put the pad and pen down in front of the Ranger. "Say goodbye to CoverGirl.. or to anyone else you feel the need to tell anything to."

He was treated to a exceptionally wary look. "Why CoverGirl? There's nothing goin' on."

Hawk sighed heavily. "Beach.. I turned a blind eye to a lot of things, but I'm not an idiot. So tell the woman goodbye.. or that you love her.. or whatever it is that's holding you here."

BeachHead gazed at the pad. "She thinks I'm dead?"

Psyche-Out corrected him gently. "She _knows_ you died. She doesn't know you've returned as a ghost."

"Who's she with?"

Both men looked blankly at each other. Hawk tilted his head in a puzzled manner. "What do you mean?"

BeachHead got up to pace back and forth. "Well, she's good looking, and a great woman.. not like folks are gonna just let her sit. and she's a people person and all that. She should have someone.. right?" He pointed at Psyche-Out. "It's Dusty, ain't it? That desert rat.. I'll bet he didn't let my body cool off before he made a move on her."

Hawk cleared his throat. "No one is 'with' CoverGirl. She's very much grieving over you. It took almost a week before Doc could let her out of the infirmary. She attended your funeral drugged to the gills so she wouldn't be hysterical. Lifeline has been keeping close tabs on her."

BeachHead paced some more. "So.. you think that if I write her a note... saying goodbye and stuff.. then I'll go away and do whatever it is that dead folks do?"

Psyche-Out nodded with a lot more conviction than he actually felt. "Yes, that's the theory. Once you've done what you stayed behind to do, then you'll be able to cross the veil and be at peace." He paused. "It's not that we don't want you back.. but you're dead. You should be at rest, not wandering around a military base."

"Alright.. I guess that makes sense. What do I tell her?" Beach paced twice more and Hawk finally cleared his throat. "Sir?"

"Could you walk around the end of the table when you pace? You keep passing right through it, it's a bit.. unnerving."

"Sorry.. new at the being-dead thing." He sat down in front of the paper. "I never been very good at this sort of thing. Being dead ain't making it no easier."

Psyche-Out sat down as well. "Try to write it as if it were a letter you'd leave on file for her, for just in case something happened." Beach nodded and fiddled with the pen absently. "Why do you pass through the table.. but you pick up the pen?"

"Heck I dunno. Maybe like grabbing you, I gotta try to touch things." He picked up the pen and wrote for a minute. "Is it too sappy to just say that I love her a lot?"

"No. I'm sure it's not too sappy."

"M'kay." After a while, BeachHead tried to pick up the page. The flat paper seemed to defeat his attempts and he finally leaned over and blew on the edge to lift it, snatching it before it could flatten out again. "Alright.. one letter to my girlfriend.. who thinks I'm dead. Uhh.. sorry.. _knows_ I'm dead." He handed it to Hawk. "You'll give it to her? And.. could you make sure that Lifeline is there? In case she gets upset, cause he's real good at making you feel better about stuff."

Hawk nodded and folded it into thirds carefully. "I will, I promise."

They all looked at each other and finally BeachHead nodded. "Okay.. so that's it. So.. I'm gonna go away for good now.. and go be dead." He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, while Hawk and Psyche-Out watched him. After a few moments, he cracked one eye open. "Am I still here?"

Psyche-Out sighed. "Yes, you're still here."

Beach let out a relieved breath. "Oh good. I was kind of worried that it'd hurt.. going away." He jiggled his legs for a second, looking at them. "So that's a real washout of an idea. What's next?"

* * * *

End Chapter:

So.. he's back.. and obviously it won't be as easy to send him off to his eternal rewards or.. wherever dead folks go.. as they hoped. Note: They wouldn't want BeachHead to leave, but he's dead, and being a ghost isn't being back alive.. they just don't want his spirit to be unhappy wandering about. Poor guys, both Beach being confused about being dead.. and the Joes for not knowing how to help him, while really wishing he could just 'be back'.

Again, thank you all for reading! There is more to come, and I'm hoping to finish up a new chapter to the Vacation fic soon.


	3. Chapter 3: Lifeline

Chap 3

Thank you to N Ockenfels for alerting me to the ballad "Camouflage" which is a classic ballad of a ghost helping his fellow soldier. Check it out on YouTube.

Another Joe finds out about BeachHead's return. The letter didn't work, and a few asked "What was in the letter?" So.. knowing BeachHead I theorized that the letter probably read "So I'm dead now. I really love you a lot. Bye. BeachHead, Sgt Major, Ranger."

Because it's Beach. Let's face it, touchy-feely ain't his strong point. And now, on to chapter 3! Please enjoy and thank you so much for the great reviews! (Yes, still working on Vacation).

* * * *

Lifeline looked at the psychologist a moment. "What? Are you on drugs? Did you seriously just try to tell me that BeachHead... whom we just buried a few weeks ago.. is a ghost haunting the Pit? Because, I might be a pacifist.. but I'll find some way to get even for you making that sort of joke. It's in remarkably poor taste." He went back to putting the antibiotics away on the shelf. It wasn't his job really, but he needed to stay busy.

Psyche-Out pointed at the door. "Come with me. Right now.. leave that.. you want me to make it an order?" Lifeline gave him a disgusted look and finally followed him to Hawk's office.

"I don't see that it's very funny.. and I don't care how much effort you've put into the prank, it's not respectful of the dead. I really miss the guy, and you're trying to make some sort of joke out of it." Lifeline walked into the room. "General Hawk.. could you please tell this idiot that making jokes about dead team members is in really poor taste?"

He stopped when he spotted the impossible figure seated at the table. The familiar southern drawl reached out and assaulted his ears. "Hey Lifeline.. what's the difference between a dead Ranger and a Ferrari?" Lifeline just stared. "We ain't got a Ferrari in the Pit!"

*THUD*

BeachHead stood up and looked over at the slumped form on the floor. "Geez.. my jokes ain't THAT bad!"

* * * *

Psyche-Out glared at him. "You know.. considering your own status right now, telling 'dead Ranger' jokes is in poor form. And here Lifeline was protesting me making fun of you being dead.."

"I can make fun of myself being dead all I wanna. It's like lawyers making lawyer jokes and stuff."

Lifeline groaned suddenly and Psyche-Out waved Beach aside. "Get outa sight!" Instead of stepping out of eyesight, the Ranger vanished. "God.. that's creepy."

"Ya said outa sight.."

Psyche-Out glared around at random. "Out of sight and quiet." Hawk sighed a little bit. "Sorry.. don't mean to sound rude to him.. okay?"

"Okay." The disembodied voice only sounded a little grumpy.

"Oooohhh my head..." Lifeline rolled onto his side. "Ow.. what happened?" Psyche-Out helped him sit up and Hawk took an arm to lift his slight form into a chair. "Thank you sir. Sorry.. "

Hawk gave him a paternal pat on his back. "It's okay.. it's a bit of a shock."

"What shock.. did I... did I see.. BeachHead?" Lifeline's face changed expressions quickly from confused and embarrassed to distressed to angry. "Beach!! I saw him! He was in here!!" He stood up and looked around. "Where is he?! I can't believe.. the sheer audacity!! BeachHead!!"

The Ranger appeared to one side. "Hey.. sorry. If I knew you'd hate the stupid joke that bad, I wouldn't have told it."

Lifeline whipped around to point at him. "What!? You.. what are you doing here!?" He lunged at him too quickly for him to dodge. When the medic passed through him, the Ranger yelped and disappeared. Lifeline stopped, looking stunned. "What.. what kind of joke is this!?"

BeachHead reappeared across the room and bellowed loudly. "STOP TOUCHING ME!!"

Lifeline turned and looked at him, going pale. He staggered badly, and Hawk took his arm again. "Sit down.. sit.. Doc's gonna kill me for this. We're going to explain it all.. just sit and breathe.."

Psyche-Out walked towards BeachHead who stood to the side with his arms crossed looking angry. "Are you okay?"

"No! You guys stop grabbing me!" BeachHead abruptly backed away from the psychologist. "Get away from me!"

Hawk pointed across the room at him. "Beach! Stay here. Don't leave the room!" He saw him fade to a shadow but he stayed put. Reassured that the ghost wasn't leaving, he turned his attention to Lifeline. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean for it to be such a shock."

Lifeline was staring at the shadow in the corner of the room. "Beach is dead.. he's dead.. you saw him lying there dead.."

"Yes.. he's dead.. that's a ghost. Let me know when you've accepted it, because you kind of have to accept it before we can talk about why I just let you see him."

Lifeline shook his head. "Ghosts are not real. It's ridiculous." Everyone stared at the corner.

A disgruntled voice came from the shadow. "Stop lookin' at me!"

Lifeline suddenly jumped up and stumbled backwards until he hit the wall. "He's a ghost! Oh geez.. oh geez.. oh geez.."

BeachHead suddenly solidified and stalked closer to the medic. "Snap outa it! We need some help from you, so suck it up, buttercup. It's still ME!"

Lifeline's mouth clicked shut and he stared fearfully. "You won't.. uhh.. do anything bad to me?" He looked at Psyche-Out. "He won't, will he? No.. brain sucking out or whatever ghosts do?"

Hawk snapped his fingers twice. "Focus. BeachHead is dead, he's a ghost, he's not gonna eat your brain. It's still Beach.. just.. dead."

Psyche-Out hummed suddenly. "Actually.. if it was dead BeachHead.. he'd be a zombie, this is just his spirit or energy.. a ghost."

Hawk looked like he was getting a headache. "Okay.. whatever. At any rate.. we think that he's got unfinished business and that's why he's here, instead of wherever he's supposed to be." He looked at the medic. "We thought.. thought that maybe he needed to talk to CoverGirl.. we had him write her a letter. It didn't work obviously." Beach snorted. "So.. the only thing we have left is to let him talk to her, in person so to speak."

Lifeline thought about it, trying to put aside the impossible idea of a ghost in the room. "You can't do that to her.. you want to have her come in and see Beach.. listen to him talk to her and saying goodbye.. so he can vanish again. How could you ask that of her?"

Psyche-Out came to sit next to him. "Lifeline.. look. That's Beach.. right there. Remember how you've felt that you wanted that chance to say goodbye? You've heard CoverGirl saying that too. How she wished she just had a few minutes.. just a chance.. even a few seconds before he'd died. Besides the trauma of having to say goodbye again, don't you think it's worth it for her to have the ability to actually tell HIM goodbye? Instead of talking to a grave? Instead of wondering if he knew how she felt?"

Hawk nodded at them. "Not only that.. but if we can't find what is holding BeachHead here.. he's not going to pass over.. or.. whatever it is that he needs to do to be at peace. We owe it to him to help if we can. He deserves to be able to rest finally."

BeachHead snorted loudly. "Myself, I'd be fine with staying.. but they make it sound pretty danged noble that they want me to leave."

Psyche-Out suddenly turned to him. "Do you WANT to wander the Pit forever? If that's what you want, then I dunno that anything will work."

"Well naw.. I don't want to wander around as a ghost.. I'm still gettin' used to the idea that I'm dead, okay?" The Ranger shifted suddenly and looked at the wall. "SnakeEyes is right there.."

Hawk wheeled around and rushed through the doorway. "SnakeEyes!!" There was a mutter of one-sided conversation out in the hallway and the commando appeared, only to stop and stare. "Get in there."

BeachHead gave a wave at his friend. For the first time that anyone could remember, SnakeEyes fumbled at a chair to sit in. "Hey Snakes... yeah, I'm still dead. Thought I'd come say 'bye' apparently."

Hawk sighed. "I'm TRYING to keep this quiet, to tell the least amount of people possible and instead circumstances keep making more people find out."

Psyche-Out took a deep breath. "Snake-Eyes, are you okay?" Getting a nod from the stunned man who still sat watching the ghost in the corner, he turned to the rest. "Okay.. so I should go get CoverGirl. I'll tell her myself, and then I'll bring her here."

BeachHead shifted uneasily. "Lifeline.. you go with him.. I don't want her all upset.. I really don't."

Lifeline started to follow Psyche-Out and then stopped. "Beach.. I'm really glad to get the chance to say good bye.. I really am. You've been a great friend.. and.. and if you should just up and vanish, I hope you know how much I miss you."

Beach suddenly smiled. "Yeah.. thanks. Sorry I made ya faint."

The medic gave a quick grin back at him. "No you're not.. you were positively gleeful over it, I just know it." He left before there could be any smart reply.

BeachHead looked at the ninja. "Guess you're not the only spook for now, huh?"

*And people think I'm weird.*

* * * *

Nearly an hour passed while they waited. SnakeEyes was filled in, and hesitantly signed to Beach that he'd missed him also, and that he hoped being dead wasn't painful. He'd been dismissed by Hawk, after being ordered to not speak of the entire ordeal to anyone at all, including Scarlett or whoever else he might feel some need to confide in.

Once the ninja was gone, Hawk sat and watched the figure standing in the corner of the room. He was still trying to figure out what would make the Ranger stay, when he'd never had any other soldier stay behind as a ghost.. that he knew of.

"Sir?" The accent was tinged with distress. "Could ya stop staring at me? You're making me feel all weirded out."

Hawk looked at the table. "Sorry.. it's just that I don't understand why you've returned as a ghost. Where were you? I mean.. from the time of the battle until now."

BeachHead faded slightly more into a grayish shadow then darkened back to a dimly seen figure. "I dunno.. how long has it been?"

"Almost three weeks."

The sergeant major scuffed a boot on the carpet a little bit, thinking carefully. "Nope.. I don't remember anything. Seems like it just happened. Do you think I was somewhere else, and then got sent back here to be a ghost?"

"I don't have a clue. I have no experience with hauntings, or ghosts or spirits. You know.. that's an idea." Hawk mulled it over while BeachHead waited patiently. "If you talking to CoverGirl doesn't work.. we should ask Spirit.. he knows all sorts of metaphysical stuff and lore and whatnot."

"Good idea. If I don't just up and vanish once I say goodbye to Courtney, that is." His voice almost broke and he cleared his throat and looked aside.

"BeachHead... are you really okay?"

"Well.. aside from being dead, I guess. Never been dead before, but I ain't got any sniffles or nothin'."

"You know what I mean.. realizing that you died has to be a little.. uhh.. upsetting." Hawk sighed to himself. He'd had talks with some of his men over all sorts of typical issues that arose in life. He'd once had to explain the facts of life to one very sheltered young man who'd made it through Basic without getting enlightened. He'd never had to worry about the emotional state of a dead guy before however.

BeachHead gave him one of the most exasperated looks he'd ever seen on the Ranger's face. "Sir.. you're the one what TOLD me I was dead. Now you're worried I might be upset about it?" He snorted loudly. "Little late for that, ain't it?"

"Well, it's not like you wouldn't find out sooner or later, you'd walk through enough walls or people or whatever, and I think even you would clue in."

"Ahh.. true." He scuffed at the carpet again. "Sir? What if..." He stopped and stared at the toe of his boot. "What if I don't vanish? What if I just.. stay?"

Hawk waited until he looked up at him. "Beach.. I hope that doesn't happen. Believe me, no one deserves to go to the afterlife reward than you do, after you've given so much for so long. But.. if we can't figure out how to help you do that, then you're welcome to stay of course. The Pit is your home.. alive or dead. But.. we'll do whatever it takes to get you to be able to pass on."

"Okay. If I stay.. can I still serve though? I mean.. all I ever heard of ghosts doing is hauntin'.. but I really would rather run PT and such." He suddenly looked a bit enthused. "I'd be great as a scout into places like this. No one could see me, and I could gather intel, come back and tell you what's in a place. No security system or locks can stop me if I can just walk through a wall."

Hawk cleared his throat. "Let's leave that sort of worry until later on. Right now, we'll concentrate on you finding eternal rest or whatever it is you'll find. Okay?"

Looking a tad disappointed, BeachHead faded slightly, becoming transparent. "Yes sir."

* * * *

End Chapter

Next chapter, CoverGirl is reunited with BeachHead for him to say good-bye. I hope you're still liking this, it's very interesting to write it.


	4. Chapter 4: Reunion

Chap 4

Another chapter, the awaited reunion between CoverGirl and BeachHead... I hope that you enjoy. Thank you for the reviews and thank you for reading!

* * * *

Psyche-Out returned and looked at BeachHead who stood nervously. "She says she's ready to see you.. are you ready? Do you want to be a bit more.. uhh.. visible?"

BeachHead jumped a little and looked at himself. "Sorry.. I look fine now? Uhh.. yeah.. wait." He looked over at Hawk. "If I vanish.. it was always the highest honor to serve you, sir." Hawk nodded soberly. "Thanks for burying me at Arlington too. I'm sure it's really nice." He took a deep breath and nodded at Psyche-Out. "Okay.. I'm ready."

Psyche-Out opened the door and CoverGirl stepped in, looking pale and tired and still more beautiful than any other woman Beach had ever seen. He felt such pain at the idea that he was supposed to be saying goodbye to her. Reaching up, he dragged his balaclava off his head, and ran his hand through his hair to settle it. As always, it merely scuffed the brown locks worse, but he wasn't paying much attention to anything other than the tall blond standing just inside the door. Lifeline was just behind her, his hand on the small of her back, leaning in to murmur to her as she stared at the floor.

His voice was a mere breath as he spoke. "Courtney..." Her face raised to look at him, and her eyes were reddened by her crying, and he hurt for her pain. "I'm so sorry.."

She swallowed and walked closer, staring at him. "Wayne? Oh god.. it's you.. how? It's not possible. Are you still... I mean.."

He felt like he could devour her with his eyes.. he'd wanted nothing more than to see her, to be with her.. it wasn't fair, after so long of denying even the attraction, they'd given up and agreed to give it a try. Instead of a hesitant beginning of a casual relationship, they'd fallen into a bond that tied them closely, despite the squabbles and snits. Now that he was dead and gone, he had wondered if she'd move on quickly, maybe even a little relieved to be done with the tumultuous relationship. Looking into her face, he saw the same bond of love that pulled at himself and any doubts fell away.

She smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "You're shining.."

He glanced at himself in surprise. "Oh.. sorry.. I uhh.. I dunno how that happened." He looked back at her face. "Courtney.. I love you.. I'm so sorry that.. well. I guess I'm sorry I died.. wasn't my choice.. but I'm still sorry."

"Wayne.." Her voice caught in her throat and she had to take a few breaths before she could speak. "I love you, and I miss you so much. I know you'd come back if you could.." She suddenly let out a sob before she could catch herself in time. "I'm sorry.. I just miss you so much.. I really do.. " CoverGirl reached out to him and her hand passed through his chest making her gasp in dismay. "Oh.. oh.. I can't even touch you!" Tears began to drip from her eyes, dangling at the ends of the impossibly long eyelashes that he'd used to tease her about.

He sucked in a deep breath and struggled to bring himself fully into being, his woman needed him and damned if he would ever let her down. "You don't have to touch me with your hands.. " He reached to put one hand on the nape of her neck and drew her in gently. She wrapped arms around the suddenly solid body and felt the familiar strong arms encircle her, hugging her to him in a comforting embrace. "You touch my heart.. and that ain't never gonna change.." He rested his cheek on top of her head, concentrating on pouring his energies into keeping himself 'there'.

Lifeline wiped at his face, openly weeping. Psyche-Out was struggling to not join him when he glanced up at the ceiling. "Did you notice how dim it is in here? He's making the lights fade.."

Hawk looked around, rubbing away the evidence of tears on his own cheek. "Beach is drawing power from the electricity in the lights?"

Psyche-Out continued to keep his gaze from the couple murmuring softly to each other, instead he picked up the communicator laying on the desk. "He's taking the power out of everything.. the battery is draining on this.."

BeachHead finally unwound himself from CoverGirl's slender form. "I'm sorry.. I can't stay this way.." She let go reluctantly. "I would if I could darlin'... I can feel myself fadin'.." She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Please.. I love you.. I wanted to tell you, because we never really said it that much.. but I do." She took a shaky breath. "If you need to go.. to.. to finish going away.. then.. it's okay. I want you to.. to go.. it's okay.. I'll be okay too. Don't stay because of me. Wayne.. you can go. I don't want to hold you here when you could go on to heaven or the other side of the universe or wherever that our spirits go. I want you to be at peace and happy."

He nodded and reached to take her hand, this time making a visible effort and the lights dropped much more. "I love you." He watched his hand fade and slip through hers. "I guess... I guess that's all I can do.. can't be solid for long.." He sighed heavily and stepped backwards. "I guess this is good-bye.. I'm glad I got to tell you bye.. and that I love you.. don't be sad, okay?"

Her voice sounded broken as she watched him back away from her. "Of course I'll be sad. I'm losing the first guy I ever really wanted to stay with."

He frowned while fading slightly more. "Well.. I don't want you to be all upset and unhappy. You deserve to live happy and to find someone else to be with."

Now she frowned back at him, getting that delightfully stubborn set to her lips. "Don't try to tell me how to feel. I don't want someone else. I want you, and only you."

He snorted at her, folding his arms across his chest. "Well, you can't have me. I'm dead, and I'm gonna go away for good.. so you'll just have to deal with it."

"Yeah, because you do whatever it is that YOU want, or what YOU think is right! I don't get any say in it? Thanks.. thanks a whole bunch you damned stubborn Ranger!" Her voice wasn't shrill.. it was still loud and forceful and it set his teeth on edge that she'd argue with him over ANYthing. She seemed to prefer fighting with him to anything else she could be doing, he swore the woman picked fights just to see him twitch.

His sarcastic reply sounded a little louder than normal. "Like I CHOSE to get shot and die? Yeah.. I had it on my danged to-do list for the day. 'Win battle with Cobra, wash socks, get killed, fill out personnel reports.' Well dang it, I guess I'll never get to those stupid reports now! That's the whole danged reason I died, just so I could IRK YOU one last danged time!"

She drew breath to shout louder, she'd always been the first to yell. "Well you do such a GOOD job at irking me! You must sit around thinking up ways to make me mad at you! If you weren't such a stubborn JERK, maybe you'd know I just want to be with you, not just be a convenient lay!"

He suddenly looked furious. "I've NEVER considered you to be a convenient piece of tail! If that was true it wouldn't have taken me so many months to get you into bed in the first place! I can't BELIEVE you'd even go there! I love you and you're the only woman I EVER felt this way about!"

Hawk cleared his throat loudly and Beach turned to him. "WHAT!? I'm TRYING to have a conversation with my girlfriend here!" Suddenly he blinked. "Uhh.. sorry sir.. I just.. sorry."

Hawk nodded towards him. "I just wanted to point out... you're not leaving. You're still here."

Psyche-Out sighed. "You're right Hawk. He's really transparent but there's no sign of any leaving. BeachHead, you don't seem to be about to pass over."

Beach looked down at himself, then at CoverGirl. "Well.. ain't that a kick in the head! I guess I'm sticking around a while." He smiled at her. "I'm sorry darlin', I guess I ain't goin' no where. I don't mean to go yellin' at ya."

She stepped closer to him. "I know. I didn't mean all that stuff either, you just get me so angry." She suddenly gasped and covered her mouth for a second. "You're staying?!" She tried to reach for him and drew her hand back. "Sorry.. I know I can't touch you all the time.. I just.. " She hugged herself. "As long as you're here, at least I can see you and talk to you." Her chest rose in a deep satisfied sigh. "That's enough, that's more than enough."

Beach sported a rather happy grin for a ghost that wasn't able to pass over in Hawk's opinion. Rather than letting the idea get set in stone, he spoke up. "We'll still be trying to figure out how to help his spirit pass over.. we'll just have to find out a different way. I'm sorry CoverGirl.. but it's what should happen."

She nodded, biting her lip softly. "I know sir.. I'll... I'll just be happy with whatever time he has here. It's more than we had any right to have."

BeachHead suddenly sighed, fading slightly. "I need to.. uhh.. I dunno.. gotta go rest.. I'll be back.. " He disappeared suddenly and CoverGirl clasped her hands tightly. His voice sounded a bit hollow coming from the empty air. "I'll be back.. promise.."

"Okay.. " She swallowed and Lifeline came to put an arm around her shoulders gently. "I can't believe this is happening.. why did he vanish?"

Lifeline sighed lightly. "Psyche-Out thinks it has to do with the energy he needs to become seen.. or to be solid.. wasn't that it?" He turned to the psychologist.

"I'm no expert. It's just one of the theories I've read. We see the lights dim when he becomes more solid.. I think he's getting the energy to do things from the surrounding environment. He might need to rest before he can manifest again." He suddenly turned to Hawk. "We should consult some of the ghost experts."

Hawk cleared his throat then. "First I want to ask Spirit. He's pretty knowledgeable about a lot of things like this. I think also.. we need to think about informing the Pit in general. Otherwise, he's going to appear in some place where Joes see him, and they'll either panic or think they've gone insane."

Psyche-Out looked at the empty spot in the room. "I'm still not all that sure we haven't all gone insane already."

* * * *

End Chapter

I hope the chapter went well for you the readers. More to come, as long as people enjoy it, I'll keep going with it. Writing the last chapter of my Vacation fic as well. Please feel free to review!


	5. Chapter 5: Coming out

Chap 5

A new chapter.. BeachHead disappeared, but is he 'resting', gone, or other? What advice will Spirit have? For the record, since CoverGirl's hair has been blond, red and brown.. right now it's blond. She'll probably dye it different colors on occasion in stories.

I'm glad that you're all enjoying this so far! Yes.. later on he'll run a PT session or two.. but not yet! First they have to get people used to the idea that he's back in spirit form.

Thank you for reading!

* * * *

Spirit gazed at Hawk and Psyche-Out. "Ghosts are usually bent on vengeance, they hunt the ones that harmed them or their loved ones in life. They often try to haunt their friends and relatives and they are generally seen as bad luck and a curse. They are often tied to a place, such as the place they died or their homeland. They cannot cross running water, so many graves were places on the opposite side of a river from a village, to keep the people safe from ghosts. But.." He turned and looked at Hawk with a sober expression. "Ghosts are not real. Spirits do not wander around looking for people to curse, or to harm them. It is merely old stories."

Hawk sighed heavily shrugging his shoulders inside his jacket. Spirit kept his quarters nearly unheated, it was a frequent squabble between Outback and him as roommates. "How I wish that were true. We have an issue."

Psyche-Out nodded. "We have a ghost, and we have tried a few things to get ...ah.. the ghost to leave and move on. It's not that we want to hurt the ghost, but just help him move on."

Getting a suspicious look on his normally impassive face, the tall Native American folded his arms. "Is there something you would like to tell me, sir?"

Walking around the dimly lit room, Hawk examined the native artwork and woven rugs. "Spirit, it's BeachHead." He turned and saw shock on the man's face for a bare instant. "He doesn't seem to be vengeful or to be cursing anyone."

Psyche-Out coughed slightly. "He did curse a bit.. but in the general normal BeachHead manner.. not as if he were putting a curse on anyone."

Spirit shook his head slowly. "Ghosts are not real."

"BeachHead is real. And he's dead. Therefor this is a ghost, therefor ghosts are real. Sorry to apply simple logic to a supernatural event.. but there it is. He's appeared to several of us and he has yet to try to harm anyone. Same as when he was alive, he's grumpy and has a sharp tongue, but he wouldn't harm a teammate, I can't see him harming any of us." Hawk took a deep breath. "He's disappeared after he became solid for a few minutes. Psyche-Out's information said maybe he used up all his energy doing that, and so he's.. uhh.. recharging?" The general turned to Psyche-Out. "That right?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Recharging sounds wrong.. another term for it?"

"Re-energizing?" Psyche-Out shook his head. "No, that sounds like some sort of energy supplement. I don't know what sort of term to use, and of course we're guessing as to why he disappeared. Shoot, we're guessing that he'll even reappear.. maybe he faded to nothing or passed over."

There was a bare whisper in the air. "I'm still here..."

Spirit leapt into the air, staggering backwards and staring about in confusion. "What was that?"

Breathing a soft sigh of relief, and feeling slightly guilty over it, Hawk nodded. "Okay Beach.. thanks for letting us know. And Spirit? That was BeachHead."

Psyche-Out looked around, searching for any shadow or sign of the Ranger's presence. "BeachHead? Are you doing okay? Still.. umm.. recharging?"

The disembodied voice sounded even softer this time. "...shut up.."

Spirit's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "It is BeachHead."

* * * *

It was another full day before Hawk heard another whisper from his sergeant major ghost. He'd worried about it, despite the reassurance when he'd been talking to Spirit. The native American insisted on burning a great deal of purifying herbs which set off the smoke detectors. The damage had been minimal, since Mainframe and Breaker had long since set up the fire suppression systems to individual sectors.

He was finally stepping back into his office, having made a trip through the Pit, and up to the PT courses to watch Stalker training the greenshirts before they moved to the rifle ranges under Low-Light's supervision. The sniper preferred the night shift but took advanced rifle training twice a week when he wasn't out on missions. He'd even gone to the air strip to check the status of the SkyStriker force.

Hanging his jacket up, he heard the soft clink of the dog tags hidden in the pocket and remembered he needed to make a decision about them sometime soon.

"How long have I been gone, Sir?"

Hawk twisted in place. "Geez... BeachHead.. you're back?" He looked around and then saw a shadowy shape form in front of his desk. "Ahh, it's only been about.." He counted in his head. "Maybe thirty-six hours or so. Are you.. hmm... feeling better?"

"I guess so. I felt like I was just.. disintegrating. It was a very unpleasant feeling, not like I was just fading to where you couldn't see me." There was a short pause. "Can you see me?"

Hawk gave a nod. "Just a shadow though." As he watched the shadow darkened and gained form until he saw the faint figure of BeachHead standing there. "I can see you, you're still transparent, but it's easy to see you."

"If it's okay with you, I'll stay like this. I don't think I've fully recovered." BeachHead settled into a parade rest stance and Hawk smiled. "Did you decide anything about me, sir?"

Sighing heavily, the general sat down. "We talked to Spirit, but he claims to have no insight, and frankly, he was pretty spooked over it." He fiddled with a pen, staring at the desk. "I've been waiting until you returned to make a general announcement. I can't just have you roaming the Pit without warning the Joes. I know that CoverGirl has been waiting to hear from you also." He looked at the shade standing in a deceivingly casual stance.

"I haven't spoke to her, Sir. I wanted... I wanted to talk to Psyche-Out and Doc first." Hawk saw the jaw under the cloth mask clench yet the tone was even and calm. "I don't want to upset her more, if it would be better.." He cleared his throat. "If it might be better for me to just disappear and never show myself.. then that's what I'll do. For her."

Now Hawk sighed heavily. "BeachHead.. do you want to do that?"

"Sir.. I want to be here, with the team.. and I want to be near her, to talk with her.. but if it's better for her that I go away now.. then I'll do it. I miss her so much.." He looked at the floor. "It's kinda hard to talk to you about her, seeing as I was pretty careful to keep discrete all this time."

"I know.. I appreciate all the relationships happening here under my nose were always discrete, no one ever rubbed my nose in them and made me do anything about them. But I'll have to admit, you and CoverGirl were the most discrete of anyone. Duke didn't actually believe it until he caught the two of you.. ahhh... being discrete in a bit too open of an area, let's say."

He was treated to watching a ghost blush deep red. For someone who only showed the skin around his eyes, BeachHead turned an amazing shade of red.

"Oh.. that. Yeah.. that was.. uhh.. yeah." He shifted uneasily. "Anyway.. sir.. I wanted to know what I should do."

"Beach.. you're dead.. technically you're not even bound by your oath to the Army after death, I don't think." Hawk thought it over. "I mean.. it's not 'til death do us part', but I'm pretty sure no one would argue you should continue to serve AFTER you've been killed in action."

BeachHead looked even more uneasy. "Sir, I have no intention of abandoning my oath of service. I just want to know how you think I should serve." He looked at the door and suddenly faded away. "Flint and Duke.." His voice turned to a whisper and faded as he disappeared from view.

Hawk sighed at the empty office. "Beach.. please stay." There was a knock on the door. "Come." He looked around but still didn't see the ghost. "Beach.."

"I'm here." The shadow reappeared. "I seem to just fade if I don't pay attention, sorry sir."

"It's okay. You're new to being... a ghost." Flint and Duke both gave him odd looks. "Well gentlemen.. since Beach has reappeared, we need to make a base-wide announcement. He wants to consult Psyche-Out and Doc about how CoverGirl is taking this.."

Duke shifted uneasily, looking around the room until he spotted the shadow. "Okay.. should I go page them?" At Hawk's nod, he went to the desk outside to talk with the two physicians. He returned within a few minutes, that were filled by a awkward silence between the sergeant major and the warrant officer. "They're on their way. If we do a announcement.. I think we should do a gathering in the motorpool. If as many of them as possible are gathered, there will be little chance of anyone not paying attention to a PA announcement." While they waited on the doctors, the three officers discussed the wording and concerns. BeachHead tended to fade to a very indistinct shadow and stayed silent.

Flint finally turned to the corner he'd settled in. "Do you have anything to add? Doing okay?"

"No sir, yes sir."

Flint waited for more and then cleared his throat. "Are you sure you're okay? You're just a vague shape over there... I'm sorry I grabbed at you that first time. I thought you were some sort of Cobra projection trick."

BeachHead brought himself more visible until he was a clear outlined person. "It's fine, protecting Hawk is a higher priority than my feelings. I'm still.. tired I guess. I don't sleep anymore.. but it's just like resting. I'm just waiting until you decide what happens with me."

Duke had settled into one of the chairs. "Well, you do have a say somewhat as well Beach."

The shade shook his head. "I'm only concerned that Courtney not be hurt in this. I'd prefer to be on duty.. do at least some of the same things I've always done. I don't see why if I'm allowed to stay, that I can't do some mission work. After all, I can out-sneak a ninja now."

Duke nodded calmly. "You know, he's right. If he can't pass over, go do whatever ghosts do, and he wants to continue with the team.." He hummed to himself. "Having a formless ghost would be handy at times. The possibilities are astounding, depending on your limitations, Beach. I mean.. you can pick up items.. but can you carry them? You became solid enough to touch things or people, but how long before you have to disappear?"

Flint shook his head. "I think it's a bad idea. What if we depend on him and then he disappears mid-mission?"

Beach solidified to fully visible, and annoyed. "When have you ever not been able to depend on me during a mission?"

Hawk interrupted before Flint could retort. "BeachHead is always dependable, but I don't want to be sending you off on a mission without knowing." He paused. "You could go, as an observer, just to test the waters, see what you can or can't do."

BeachHead seemed pacified by that offer and nodded, fading slightly until he was slightly transparent. Flint reached up and adjusted his beret slightly, having gotten a bit uncomfortable when the ghost became angry.

Duke sat up, rubbing his chin as he thought it over. "That'd work." He seemed to consider it. "We have a training run coming up in fact. Just four greenies, me and TunnelRat with Kamakura as the spook. Since it's supposed to be securing a minimally staffed office posting, could be a good practice to see what we can expect out of Beachhead." He turned towards the corner. "No offense meant. I'm only referring to your abilities, not your willingness or dependability."

"None taken. If Hawk approves, I'd go for that. I can pass through walls, bypassing any security issues, and if I stay unseen I won't alert them that anyone is nearby at all."

Hawk cleared his throat. "That sounds like a plan."

Psyche-Out knocked and entered. "Sorry.. Doc is delayed, Clutch acquired a new wrench dent in his head. He's putting in stitches and giving him heck." He nodded at the corner. "Good to see you back BeachHead."

The shadow suddenly flared into full visibility. "Just why did Clutch get a dent in his head?!"

Psyche-Out pursed his lips suddenly, glancing sideways at Duke. "Ahhh.. well.. you see..."

BeachHead suddenly headed towards the wall and Hawk snapped at him. "Beach stop! You're not going anywhere. CoverGirl obviously has everything under control."

The sergeant major seethed but stood still. "Yes sir." Hawk kept a wary eye on him as he motioned Psyche-Out to sit. When the general pointed at a chair, Beach settled into it and fixed his eerie gaze onto the psychologist. "I need to know how my staying will affect CoverGirl. Is this gonna hurt her?"

Psyche-Out looked at Hawk in query. "Well.. I don't want to discuss any confidential medical...."

Hawk cleared his throat. "Without going into specifics, can you answer the question?"

"Hmm... will it hurt her for Beach to stay here, as a ghost?" He seemed to really consider how to answer it. "I don't think so.. but.. it's not something I run into often. My first thought would be yes.. because she won't move on with her life if Beach is here. But then.. if BeachHead is here, then the issue she would be moving on from, didn't really fully happen. So I'm stuck wondering what sort of issue you might have with the two of you having a relationship with you dead." He stopped and thought again. "Short answer, I think if you two have a good relationship then it'll work out."

BeachHead sighed and turned to Hawk. "Okay.. so what are your orders, sir?"

"You'll go on the mission tomorrow with Duke. We'll make the announcement in one hour to the Pit. I'd like you to be on hand, because otherwise, the entire team will think we've all gone bonkers." Hawk then pointed at him. "You will NOT go anywhere until after we finish the announcement."

"Sir, yes sir." The tone was as sullen sounding as a disappointed Beach had given out when he was alive. Somehow that was a little comforting to Hawk.

* * * *

"... and so.. our Sergeant Major has returned to us, and he will be welcome of course here with the team. If anyone has questions or concerns, they are welcome to bring them to any of us here.. or to Doc, Psyche-Out or you can of course talk to BeachHead himself. For now, he still has all rank and privileges, although his active duties are still unassigned. You will accord him all due respect or deal with the consequences. Is this understood?" Hawk paused for the chorus of agreement. He glanced over at the stoic BeachHead standing on the ramp with Duke and Flint. "That's all.. dismissed." He walked down, followed closely by BeachHead. Duke and Flint were both waylaid by people asking questions. Beach closed his eyes and walked just behind his commander, trying to ignore the hands that quested out and brushed through him as he passed by. He couldn't close his ears to the murmurs and comments.

He did open his eyes in time to see Clutch's face as he stalked past him. His glare had the same impact as when he was alive, making the grease monkey go pale. He lifted a hand to point at him as he passed. "Leave her alone!" His voice wasn't quite low enough and Hawk glanced back at him. BeachHead subsided, and followed him back to the offices in silence.

"BeachHead.. I'm going to get in touch with some ghost experts. I think with some consultation, we might be able to help you. If nothing else, they should know more than we do right now." He nodded in reply. "I only want to help you. I can't help but think that somehow this is my fault.. that maybe I said 'stay' when you lay dying, and it stuck somehow."

Beach snorted. "Somehow I doubt it. Most of the time I don't do as I'm told anyway, so why would I have done it that one time? I'd like to get back to running the PT sessions soon. Thank you for letting me try a mission. I want to be useful."

Hawk gave him a nod. "I think you will be an asset no matter what. This is just one way, and if you can go to anywhere, walk right through the defenses, and gather intelligence on what's going on inside, that'll be invaluable. But my first priority will be you, not your usefulness. I know... that's not how it should be, it should be the mission first. But blazes man, I think you've given enough for this country that you deserve a bit of resting in peace."

Beach was quiet for a moment. "Thank you sir. But I've never been one to lie about napping.. not even dirt naps, apparently."

"You're just stubborn."

"Most likely, sir."

Hawk sighed.

* * * *

End Chapter

Well.. now it's announced. And he'll be going out on a mission too! Hopefully most of the Joes will accept him as the old BeachHead. As always, feel free to review or message me!


	6. Chapter 6: Snags

Chap 6

Another chapter for the ghostly Sergeant major. There were exactly TWO correct guesses which will be confirmed here. Kudos to those two who figured out from the little tidbits.

BeachHead goes on his first mission as a ghost.. or at least.. he does his best to.

* * * *

Duke looked at his gathered troop. TunnelRat kept glancing nervously at the ghost standing to one side. The four greenshirts tried to appear nonchalant about it, while Kamakura stood impassively, although he hadn't tried to approach BeachHead at all.

"Alright.. here's the plan. This is the building we'll enter. Once we get into the first staging position, BeachHead will attempt to infiltrate. If he fails or we need more intelligence, Kamakura will be up. Otherwise, Kamakura goes in the upper levels as the point man. TunnelRat will be going in under the building, through the access tunnels of the subway. Even though the subway doesn't run close by, the access tunnels are all over." He stopped. "Any questions? Gear up, I want us headed to the hangers in ten minutes."

Once they had the various packs and weapons, they all headed out on foot out of the motorpool and across to the transport truck to head to the nearby airstrip. BeachHead strode along near the front of the group and caught the eye of CoverGirl who had been buried in a Mauler's main engine. Duke resolutely turned his gaze aside as she gave a short wave and smile. BeachHead's very correct and professional nod in return made the lieutenant smile to himself.

They'd gotten only a couple of hundred yards away when BeachHead suddenly jerked to a stop. It took the group a few more steps to realize he'd stopped. Duke peered at him as he struggled to take another step.

"Beach.. you okay?" Duke walked over to stand next to the ghost who faded slightly then flared back to solid looking. "Are you coming?"

BeachHead trembled, struggling to take a single step at a time. The edges of his form began to become fuzzy and hazy. "I... I can't.. I can't.. go any further.." He gritted his teeth and grunted softly as he forced another step.

Duke suddenly became alarmed as he saw the figure begin to pull apart. "Beach! No.. back up.. back up!" After a second, the ghost walked backwards a few steps, becoming more fluid with each step. "You're gonna destroy yourself. You were just dissolving.."

The ghost took a deep breath. "It doesn't make any sense.. I can't go any further. Feels like walking into a spider web that doesn't break.. or really thick syrup.. I just can't seem to get through."

Duke triggered his communicator. "This is Duke topside, connect me with Hawk." He waited for the acknowledgment. "Sir.. we have an issue. BeachHead is stuck, he can't seem to go any further."

Hawk's voice sounded surprised. "Stuck? Where are you?"

"About.. two hundred yards from the motorpool."

Hawk sighed over the comm clearly. "He must be tied to the Pit, he can't leave. Send him back, preform the mission without him."

BeachHead protested. "I already WENT further than this! I went yesterday with you, sir! I went all the way to the danged hangers!"

Duke thought it over while Hawk confirmed he'd gone to the hangers but he wasn't aware that BeachHead had gone with him. "Sir... sorry to interrupt.. what if BeachHead isn't tied to a place.. but to a person? If he's bound to you, that would mean he could go anywhere.. as long as you go there too."

Hawk was as silent as BeachHead as they all considered that. "He has been staying nearby me.. I'm coming up topside now. Stay put."

Kamakura shifted closer. "Does it hurt to try to go further than your barrier?"

BeachHead crossed his arms, looking a bit put out at his limitation. "It's not pleasant. It's worse the further I actually get. How am I supposed to go on missions, if I'm supposed to stay near Hawk?"

TunnelRat spoke up, carefully staying a distance past his barrier spot. "Well, you wouldn't be able to go anywhere without Hawk going too, so you'd have to mostly stay at the Pit." BeachHead's low grumble made the small man back up another step or two.

When Hawk finally appeared, he strode up to gaze at the group. The four greenshirts were standing awkwardly to one side, awaiting orders. "Alright.. come on BeachHead.. let's see if I can take you further." He turned to walk away and BeachHead took three steps after him before yanking to a stop abruptly again.

"Ow." The ghost stopped this time and looked at them, raising his arms in frustration. "How come I can't go!? I went before!"

Duke exchanged a look with Hawk and they returned to the spot. "You can't go any further, even though Hawk is here now?"

"No. I stop in the same spot. This is stupid.. I went all the way to the hangers yesterday!" Suddenly Beach turned and moved a few steps back towards the motorpool and made a run away from it. When he hit the barrier spot, his entire form flared briefly and disappeared. His annoyed voice sounded loudly. "OW!! Dang stupid.." His shadow reappeared twenty feet back, swirling slightly before he reformed into a faded shadowy version of himself.

Hawk glared at him. "Stop that! You'll destroy yourself doing stupid stunts like that. You must be connected to the Pit.. only why would you be able to leave with me before though?"

Kamakura cleared his throat. "Sir? If I could ask.. did you have anything with you yesterday that you don't have now? We have tales of ghosts bound to objects, in addition to people or places. Perhaps you had some token?"

Hawk frowned and looked at the ground thoughtfully. "No.. I was in uniform.. " He dipped his hand into his pants pockets. "This is all my usual junk.. a few coins.. keys, security card.." He patted his shirt pocket. "I don't carry anything in my shirt pockets.. ahh.. I had my jacket on, but I rarely carry anything... oh..." He turned to TunnelRat. "Go to my office and bring me my jacket."

TunnelRat trotted off without question while Duke gave a puzzled look. "You think BeachHead is tied to your jacket?"

Hawk shook his head. "No. But I think I know what it is. We'll wait for him to bring it back." He looked at their disgruntled ghost. "If it's what I think it is, then I'm sorry BeachHead.. it's my fault for keeping them."

The sergeant major suddenly seemed to relax. "I think the barrier is moving.. " He walked carefully to the spot he'd stopped before and passed by it. "It's gone.."

Duke shook his head. "If 'Rat is bringing the object, the boundary isn't gone, it's just moving as that object gets closer to here. The center of your area is moving, but you'll still have to stay within a certain distance of it."

TunnelRat reappeared, running up with the jacket to hand over. Hawk looked at BeachHead for a second, then dipped a hand into the pocket to pull out a set of dog tags. "These are yours.. I'm sorry. I don't know why I kept them. Doc handed them to me at some point, and I was going to put them back on you before the funeral. But it just never happened. I guess I should have destroyed them, but I just.. I kept them, just to remember you by."

BeachHead gazed at the dogtags Hawk held out towards him. "My tags.. okay.." He reached towards them and stopped within a inch. "I can't.. I can't touch them." He pulled his hands away and suddenly reached up to his throat to fondle his tags that were around his ghostly neck. "I have my tags.. on me. And you have my real tags.. so.. I guess I'm not real.."

Hawk shook his head. "You're real.. just in a different form." Kamakura cleared his throat again. "Yes? Speak up if you have an idea."

"Well, sir.." The junior ninja looked at them all. "Now that we know Sergeant Major BeachHead is bound to the dog tags, couldn't we take the tags with us? Then he can go with the team, wherever his tags go, he can go. He has a pretty big radius to move around in, since he got all the way to right here from Hawk's office in the lower levels of the Pit.. it should be easy to have the dog tags in a staging area with the team, and he can go off that far to infiltrate, and if necessary, I could carry them with me when I go in, to move his range to the building. As long as someone carries his tags to the targets, he can preform the mission."

BeachHead brightened. "That's right! Shoot Sir, we don't send single man teams in anyway, not like you normally would send me to spy on something without a back-up. Only SnakeEyes gets sent on solo missions like that. Well.. other Joes do, but not this sort of mission."

Hawk heaved a sigh, obviously not very keen on the idea. "Alright, we'll give it a shot. Duke.." He handed the chain with dangling tags to the lieutenant. "Don't lose our sergeant major."

Duke gave a nod. "Yes sir." He looked at the tags carefully, then grasped them in a hand, watching BeachHead twitch. "What's wrong?"

"Can you put 'em in a pocket.. it feels weird when you.. ahh.. handle them." BeachHead's pained expression made Duke tuck them into his shirt pocket and button it securely. "Thanks."

TunnelRat shook his head. "Dis job gets weirder an' weirder. Duke, don't forget them tags and put 'em through the laundry.. Beach might not appreciate gettin' that clean."

The ghost snorted at him and moved to walk next to the short Brooklyn native, making him get a bit nervous. "Yeah, I'm dead, and ya'll still make jokes about my hygiene. Can't tell ya how nice that is."

"Aww.. I was jus' kiddin', Beach.. after all, I can't smell you at all like you are now."

Hawk shook his head. "You men be careful. Report in as needed. Breaker has your frequency." He watched the small group walking to the transport. Shaking his head, he turned to walk back to the Pit after seeing Kamakura leap onto the back and offer a hand down to the Sergeant Major who berated him.

"What? I'm dead, not disabled! You think I can't get into a truck?!"

Hawk smiled to himself, entering the motorpool which cut off the faint shouting. CoverGirl looked up and he went to her. "How are you doing?"

She came to attention. "Sir! I'm fine sir. Just working on the Mauler."

He glanced at the torn apart tank. "At ease. Will you be able to get it up and running?"

She gave a complex looking part a hard kick with her boot. "Yes sir. If I have to weld it's treads to it's own butt, I'll make it run, sir." She paused and looked out the open front door. "Sir?"

He nodded, glancing out the door himself. "He'll be fine." She nodded and he moved on, going back to his boring offices to get back on the piles of paperwork and calls to self-important officers and generals.

* * * *

"Hey Beach.. can you fly?" TunnelRat was giving him a close inspection and had decided suddenly that since the ghostly form was no longer scary, he would ask the hundred and one questions percolating in his head.

"No."

Screwing up the side of his face thinking about it, the young guy hummed. "I think ya should be able to fly, I mean.. ya don't gotta walk on the ground if yer a ghost and all. Ghosts can fly."

Kamakura spoke up helpfully. "In ancient lore, the ghosts can fly too."

"Well I can't fly, so stop askin' me about it." BeachHead looked out the back of the truck from his seat near the tailgate. Now of course, he wondered how he was seated on the bench, if he passed through walls and such.

TunnelRat was persistent. "Have ya tried flyin'? I mean.. how do ya know ya can't, if ya ain't tried yet?"

Beach glared at him. "You ever heard those stories 'bout ghosts pullin' the limbs offa overly-curious corporals?"

"Naw.. I don't think I heard those."

"That's cause I ain't pulled yer limbs off for irritatin' me yet. So shut yer yap." Beach watched him clamp his jaw shut. One of the greenshirts cleared his throat a few minutes later. "Whut? Ya got something ta say now too?"

He was stared at in a mixture of fear and awe. "I.. I.. I just wanted to tell you.. we're awfully glad you came back. Sergeant Stalker is a good guy, but he's not you. We all missed you a lot." The other three greenshirts all nodded enthusiastically.

BeachHead stared at them for a few seconds while the truck bounced over the rough road on the drive to the air strip. "Thanks. But Stalker is a good man. You behave proper for him, I don't wanna have to come stomp on ya'll." He went back to looking out of the open back of the truck and faded until they could see through him.

Kamakura leaned over to speak quietly. "Sergeant major? You're disappearing again.. should we get Duke to stop the truck?"

Beach took a second before he responded. Looking down at himself, he made an effort to bring himself back to fully visible again. "No. I'm fine. That happens sometimes." He closed his eyes and felt tenuously along the line to his real dog tags. Now that he knew what the anchor was, he could locate them fairly easily. Duke reached up to pat the pocket, probably nervous he'd lose them, and Beach felt a tug at himself. He suspected that if someone put their hands on them, he'd appear, voluntarily or not. He thought back on each time he'd appeared and realized each time he'd felt that pull to appear, it had been when Hawk had the tags. He seemed aware when a person called him, but the tags pulled him. He felt the tug again and finally got up to walk up to the front of the truck.

He looked at the blank solid cab wall and pushed his head and shoulders through it to look at Duke in the front seat with the driver. "Duke sir.. please stop touching my tags.. it's a little odd feeling." He felt the truck swerve and pulled himself back into the rear of the truck, hearing the driver cursing in startlement. "Nervy drivers, should have had Courtney drive us, we'd be there by now." He walked back over in a crouch to the seat at the tailgate and settled in again.

TunnelRat snickered as the truck straightened out again. "I think you made the driver pee on himself." He waited a moment. "Hey Beach? Can you possess people?"

"No."

"Are ya sure? Have ya tried it yet?" TunnelRat seemed rather enthused over the ideas he was coming up with.

"Do you want me to practice on ya?" The glare from the dead man made TunnelRat gulp. "So shut up about it."

Kamakura suddenly spoke up in a perky tone. "What would happen if we dropped your tags out of a plane? Would you fly then?"

"I can't fly! And if ya go throwing my tags outa a plane, I swear I'll kick yer butt, ninja or not!" Beach settled himself against the back of the bench more firmly.

"But.. what if Duke jumps out of the plane with a parachute? Then I bet you would fly!" Kamakura seemed so pleased. TunnelRat nodded with enthusiasm as well.

Beach growled low under his breath. "I swear.. I'd kill myself to get away from ya'll with yer stupid ideas, but I'm already dead."

TunnelRat looked worried. "What would happen if you tried to off yerself, when yer already dead? I don't think ya oughta try that, Beach."

"I'm not gonna." He puffed out a sigh, he still felt somewhat drained, but he wouldn't admit it to anyone, wanting to accompany the mission. It wasn't a concern, he was already dead, what further could happen to him?

"What about dogs? Can dogs see ya when ya go all invisible?" TunnelRat was too energetic and Beach cursed Stalker's inability to wear the small man out with PT.

"I don't know."

"Well, have ya gone around Mutt and Junkyard? Or Order? I bet Order could sense ya! He's one smart dog." Two of the greens agreed with that. The MP was a popular figure, despite his status and job keeping everyone in line with the rules. "I think ya oughta check that. What if Cobra uses dogs?"

"Geez..." Beach let himself fade to invisible to try to make them stop asking him stupid questions.

The greenshirt seated next to him yelped in surprise when he disappeared. "He's gone!" Kamakura peered closer at the spot while TunnelRat leaned out the back to yell up at Duke.

"Hey Duke!? Beach just up and vanished."

Before they could stop the truck, Beach spoke up in an annoyed tone. "I'm right here, shut up."

TunnelRat nodded, looking bewildered. "Oh.. okay." He poked his head back out as the truck began to slow. "Never mind! He's just all invisible and stuff! It's okay!" The truck rumbled back up to speed, although BeachHead could vaguely hear the cursing up front. "Why'd you go and disappear like that? That's freaky!"

"I was hoping it'd make ya'll shut up."

"Oh." There was a pause. "How do ya see when yer invisible? With no eyes, ya should be blind, right? Are you blind when yer invisible?"

BeachHead brought himself back to full formed and reached out to thump the shorter man in the side of his head. "Shut it! No more questions! Just shut yer yap for five danged minutes!"

TunnelRat rubbed the side of his head. "Alright.. alright. So I'm sittin' here.. no questions. Hawk just said we could ask ya questions if'n we wanted to, so I wuz jus' askin' ya questions."

Now the junior ninja shifted his tall form a bit further away before he spoke up. "Hawk did say that."

BeachHead glared at him making him look a bit nervous. "Ya'll about ta get a good ole fashioned boot to the head if'n ya don't shut up!" His accent deepened. "Ah 'bout had 'nough a' it."

Everyone nodded. "Yes Sergeant major."

They arrived at the air strip, and got out, BeachHead jumping to the ground and walking to the side, glowering at everyone. Duke looked at them but decided if no one brought an issue to him, it didn't exist yet.

"Alright, load up on the plane. We'll take off in twenty minutes, gear is already on board since we had a delay." BeachHead grunted at that. "Not your fault Beach."

"I know." He followed the rest on board while Duke signed off on the flight information.

Wild Bill watched the small group boarding and looked at Duke. "BeachHead is going on a mission? Can he do that?"

Duke shrugged in a nonchalant manner that he didn't truly feel. "It appears he can. Hawk approved the mission." He handed the clipboard over. "Is there some problem?"

"No sir. Just.. can he ride in a plane? What if he sort of.. falls through the wall or floor?" The texan tipped his hat back looking at the small transport plane.

Sighing because that hadn't been a concern before the pilot mentioned it, Duke shook his head. "Well, if he falls through the plane, he's already dead, right?"

"I guess so. I tell you sir, this is odder than a two tailed cat."

"Yeah... what you said. See you on the ride back." Duke walked on board, climbing the steps and ducking his head in through the door. He found BeachHead supervising the stowing of the gear which had been left laying in the open.

"Get that tarp secured, those lazy flight crews need a good boot to their rears.. stow all weapons and ammo in the locker to the rear. TunnelRat.. you carrying explosives?" The sergeant major narrowed his gaze at him. "Get them secured.. and no, yer pocket ain't proper securin' of explosives." He turned to Duke. "Have it ready to fly in ten minutes sir."

"Good, carry on." Duke moved to the cockpit to check in on the pilot. Ace gave him a grin. "What are you doing piloting this transport? Isn't it a bit slow for your usual planes?"

"Lost a bet sir."

Rolling his eyes, Duke shook his head. He rubbed one hand over his crew cut, ruffling the short blond hair. "I should have guessed. Good to have you, though. Beach will have us ready to take off in ten minutes."

Ace gave him a double-take. "Sir? BeachHead? You mean.. Beach's ghost is on board?" He reached to his neck to fiddle with a religious medal.

"Yes.. BeachHead is along on this mission. Is there some issue?" His hard stare left no leeway for misunderstanding Duke's position.

"Ahh.. no sir. Of course not. Nothing but respect for Sergeant major." The pilot went back to his preflight checks.

"That's what I thought." Duke managed not to even twitch when BeachHead came walking through the bulkhead door. "We ready?"

Ace stared and then swallowed and turned his eyes forward. Beach looked at the back of his head a second. "Yes sir, ready for takeoff. Everyone is buckled in. Cargo battened down."

Duke nodded. "Good, thank you. Go get.. uhh.. buckled up or whatever you'll do.." Beach smirked under that mask and turned to go. "Beach.. hey.. I was wondering.. can you fly?"

"Duke..." The ghost looked at him for just a second. "Never mind. No I can't fly. Anything else?"

"Nope. Go get secured."

"Yes sir." He disappeared and Ace turned to stare.

The engines were warming up with a deep rumble, and Duke raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"

Ace nodded. "You know.. someone said that he draws power from things around him, right? Sometimes the lights get dim and stuff." Duke nodded warily. "Maybe he shouldn't get too close to the plane's cockpit.. all the controls in here. If he sucks power off the control panel, it could cause issues. Right?"

Duke hummed. "Better safe than sorry. I'll go tell him." He unbuckled and got up, moving back to the rear to find the sergeant major seated next to Kamakura. "Beach.. stay out of the cockpit area. We're a little worried about you messing with the electronics, so until we have time to test it, just.. ahh.. stay back here."

"No problem. Ace is nervous anyway. I don't want to make the pilot nervous. Never a good idea." BeachHead closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall.

TunnelRat spoke up nervously. "Hey.. what are ya worrying about? If we go an' crash, yer already dead!"

"Well I'm pretty danged sure that I won't like crashing, whether I'm already dead or not."

"Yeah, well some of us got a bit more ta lose if the plane goes down!" TunnelRat leaned back when the Sergeant major opened his eyes to glare at him. "Hey hey.. sorry.. don't go whacking me in da head again!"

Duke's eyebrows went up. "Some issues I need to know about?" Everyone zipped their lips. "Good. We're about to take off, don't make me come back here again. Beach.. if there's any issues.. you know.. you fall through the floor.. umm.. huh. I guess you couldn't do much about it. Everyone else, if Beach falls out of the plane, give a yell, we'll have to decide something on the run then." Everyone nodded except BeachHead who looked vaguely worried.

"I'll try not to fall through the plane." He sat back and Duke saw him wrap his hand around one of the structure bars.

* * * *

End Chapter:

Next up.. the mission! Thanks for continuing to read, and I hope you're all enjoying it! Please feel free to comment via review or message!


	7. Chapter 7:Mission's ON!

Chap 7

Welcome back to the Ghost saga.. I've re-written the mission chapter and I can say I'm pleased with how it turned out, and I really hope you enjoy reading it also! Despite the major blow of losing the rest of this story that had already been written, I'm hopeful that the re-write will be as good as the original. (see my profile for details if you don't understand about the re-write).

* * * *

BeachHead managed not to fall through the plane at all, and the team disembarked and traveled to their outer staging area.

"Okay..." Duke stood next to the table in the back room of an abandoned office building. "TunnelRat, you head in underneath. Enter the subway here.." He pointed at their map. "Once you're under the Cobra offices, you'll find your way to the lower levels, hopefully. BeachHead will go with you, and.. well.. you two can figure out how best to use his abilities I guess. We're close enough that you shouldn't have any problems getting too far from the tags. If you prefer, I guess TunnelRat could carry them."

BeachHead snorted at him. "TunnelRat loses things too often. I'd prefer not to be tied to some sorry bit of sewer, thanks." Duke smiled.

Kamakura pointed at the exterior pictures. "I can enter here, check out the upper levels, and then signal when it's clear for Duke and the greens to enter through the ground level entrance, I'm thinking that the rear loading docks will end up being the best bet. If there is any issues with TunnelRat, then BeachHead can come tell me.. right?" They glanced over at the corner where BeachHead stood, staring blankly across the room. "BeachHead? Sergeant major?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Duke cleared his throat. "Okay then.. Beach.. you okay for this?" The ghost nodded distractedly. "BeachHead.. "

"I'm fine sir.. ready to go." His form faded to a faint shadow. "Go with TunnelRat, and try to pass up to Kamakura if I can." He turned to look at Duke, his movements indistinct. "It'll go fine. Just don't lose my tags while I'm off in the building or nothing." Duke's hand went to his pocket and BeachHead twitched. "Please stop touching them.. every time you do that I feel it."

"Sorry." Duke nodded at TunnelRat and Kamakura. "Okay.. you two gear up and get moving. Don't get caught, and make sure everything is secure. Check your ear pieces.. "

Everyone double-checked the frequencies that the comm units were working on. BeachHead shook his head at the offered one. "I can't take it through a wall or nothin' so it would jus' get in the way. I can talk to 'Rat or Kamakura." He looked at Duke. "If you need me, jus' take the tags out and hold them and call me. I should 'hear' that, and come back to you." Duke nodded and started to reach to check his shirt pocket but stopped short of touching it. "Thanks. It's really irritating feeling, okay?"

Duke nodded. "I'll try to remember. I'm just nervous I'll somehow drop them.. and then I'll have to explain to Hawk how I lost a dead sergeant major."

"Very funny. Aren't you supposed to respect the dead?" BeachHead smirked at the dismayed look that his commanding officer got. "BeachHead out.. " He abruptly disappeared. His faded voice came from the air. "See you underground 'Rat."

One of the greenshirts shivered. "Duke, sir.. that's really disturbingly creepy.. no offense to Sergeant major.."

The voice next to his ear made him leap into the air. "None taken.." The greenie peered around as the soft chuckle died away to silence.

Duke rested his face in his hand. "And he's STILL terrifying greenshirts.."

* * * *

BeachHead crouched under the low ceiling in the access tunnel. The short trooper moved much easier in front of him. Suddenly he whirled and pointed a flashlight back along the tunnel behind him. "Hello?" His terse whisper made Beach smile.

"Yes?" The jump that TunnelRat made was pretty satisfying. "What's wrong? You knew I'd be here." The flashlight flicked around wildly. He brought himself to a faded shadow. "Here.."

The light shone mostly through him and 'Rat cursed softly, backing along the tunnel. "Sorry.. but jeeeeeebus that's freaky creepy. I like ya Beach.. really.. but all I can see is a misty shadow.. and it's freakin' me out." He vanished completely. "No no no... come back.."

"Why? I'm gonna be invisible later." He moved up past the specialist. "I'll go ahead.. how's that?" He heard soft muttering behind him and continued up the tunnel easily. The flashlight beam caught at him on occasion as 'Rat used it to check markings on the walls. TunnelRat peered at him once, although he thought he had dropped to invisible.

"Hey.. Beach.. you're right there.. aren't you?" He stared at the spot his light shone. "I can sort of see you.. a weird outline.. like seeing a shadow. So you better be aware that you can be seen even when you vanish." The light flicked out and his night vision goggles came down. "Can you see okay without a light?"

"Yeah.. no problem." BeachHead moved further down the branch, with TunnelRat following. "Can you see me on the night vision?"

"Naw.. not really. Sometimes I think I see a shadow or movement.. but I can't really tell if it's really you, or if I'm just thinking I see you." They continued. "Hey.. here we are.. right above us should be the basement access. Let's hope they don't station guards in the basement.."

"Hold up. I'll check." BeachHead let himself fade and then moved through the wall and up. When he stepped out of the wall into the basement room, he found a single bored guard standing near the doorway. Moving to the steps, he walked up them, and went through the door itself. Holding himself invisible, he located another guard at the end of a hallway. Returning to the lower tunnel he appeared next to the nervous corporal.

"I'm back. One guard in the basement.. then up the steps, down the hall to another guard at the access door to the rest of the building. I think I can take out the guard for you, then you can come up." He moved out again, ignoring TunnelRat's low protest.

"Beach! Hey!" His hissed words faded as he went through the wall again. TunnelRat clicked his comm unit on. "TunnelRat to Duke.. we're under the basement.. Beach is going to take out the first guard."

"What?! How is he supposed to do that? Stop him!" Duke sounded agitated.

TunnelRat snorted and shifted around, hefting his rifle. "How? He's already gone off through the walls.."

"Okay.. I'm back.. you can go up into the basement.. I'll go get the other guard, so don't be too loud." BeachHead stood crouched next to the shorter man.

"No.. stay put. Duke said.."

"Dang it.. we're in the middle of a mission.. what's he going on about?" Beach sighed and settled down in a low crouch on his heels. "That guard ain't gonna be unconscious forever.."

TunnelRat called Duke again. "Beach is back.. he knocked out the guard, we gotta move now."

Duke sounded exasperated. "How did he do that?"

The ghost stood and spoke into the comm unit. "I hit him with a board. What does it matter? We need to move, Duke.."

"Go. Keep us posted. Kamakura is upstairs.. he reports office workers, with less than half a dozen guards so far." Duke clicked off and TunnelRat lifted the door and entered the basement. BeachHead waited until he was in the basement and vanished again, moving down the hallway invisibly. Once he reached the guard at the end, he brought himself into fully visible only inches from his face.

"BOO!" He grinned and threw a punch into the startled man's face. Bringing his hand solid at the right time took concentration but it was satisfying to feel the crunch. He looked at the crumpled form. Back down to the basement door and through it. "All clear." He flicked out again, and roamed the lower floors quickly. Returning again he settled next to TunnelRat. "One guard in the front office, fourteen office workers. Dunno if they're armed or not. They look like typical pogues, shouldn't be an issue for ya." TunnelRat lifted his rifle up and opened the door up. "I'll be right here.."

"Got it Beach, watch my back." The trooper moved quickly through the office spaces, gathering the workers and putting them in a group.

"Alright you guys just stay right here." Triggering his earpiece he checked in. "Duke.. you guys in yet?"

"We're in.. headed to your twenty. Bringing the front office workers to you. Send Beach to Kamakura." Duke sounded calm and TunnelRat jerked his head.

"You heard the man, head out Beach."

The ghost turned on his heel and moved out. As he passed through the offices, he 'felt' for the ninja. Simply by following his gut feelings, he quickly ran into the apprentice who had dispatched two guards, tying them securely. "Kamakura.. check in with Duke." The young man leapt into the air, twisting in place with his sword out and landing in a ready crouch. "Oh stop that."

"BeachHead?" He searched the room with his eyes carefully. "Where are you?"

Unable to resist, Beach moved to behind him before he spoke up. "How's it feel? You ninja's ain't the only spooks now." He became visible just as Kamakura whirled. "Duke sent me to check on ya."

"Everything is going fine, all under control."

Within several minutes, the Joe team had gathered. Their prisoners were searched throughly and the evidence they needed was located and secured. It took a few hours for them to finish the turning over of the prisoners to local authorities. BeachHead disappeared and stayed out of the way, only speaking up in Duke's ear when absolutely needed. The crewcut blond managed to not jump after the third or fourth time.

"Alright guys, let's get out of here. Pack it up." Kamakura and TunnelRat took the point position and Duke led the four greenshirts behind them. BeachHead wandered along behind as an invisible rear guard.

"Duke?" His low voice carried just enough to stop the officer. He stopped and turned to look at the building again.

Duke returned a few feet, looking around blankly. "BeachHead? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He let himself form into a very light shadow and moved to near Duke to catch his attention. "Here."

"We gotta move out." Duke gave a short motion. "Let's go." The lieutenant turned to leave. "Come on BeachHead.."

BeachHead hesitated only briefly. "Yes sir." With a last look back over his formless shoulder, he followed after without further protest, much to Duke's evident relief. "I think it went pretty well, all considered. The greenies did well."

"I think so too. We need to promote a few greenshirts, need a few sergeants to put in charge of two units." Beach moved up to beside Duke and agreed softly. "We'll have to go over some records, find the best ones."

"I got a few ideas. There's some really good men.. and women.. in the brigades."

Duke and he spoke quietly about which of the support troops were the best prospects. Once they were on the plane headed back, Duke sat in the back with his team, starting the debriefing and paperwork. BeachHead still seemed distracted, but stayed mostly visible. "Beach.. you did good. We'll have to work on your tendency to hare off without waiting for confirmation of orders."

"That ain't nothin' new though, Duke." TunnelRat seemed cheerful. "Beach ain't never been one for sitting and waiting. It was real handy to have him to look into a room before we had to enter it blind."

Beach was pleased with himself despite Duke's mild irritation. "Jus' tryin' to be useful. Hard to be quite as useful when I'm dead, I guess."

Duke shook his head and sighed. "I can't figure out if I'm supposed to put you in the reports or not. I mean.. what will the brass think if they read that a guy we've told them is dead, that we even buried already, is on the reports going on missions?"

Beach shrugged, beginning to fade to a soft shadow. "I dunno. Put me in like normal and let Hawk decide about it. This was supposed to be to see how I could operate on a mission, it'd defeat the purpose to not write down how it worked out, right?"

Duke sighed. "I guess. You know.. you being dead really has complicated things, Beach. You shouldn't have died. Highly inconvenient for us."

"Wasn't real convenient fer me either, ya know." BeachHead tried not to get mad over it. "I didn't wanna friggin' die. I didn't wanna see my girl crying her eyes out onna account she can't touch me no more. I didn't wanna lose my career much less my danged life. Geez Duke.. I'm friggin' DEAD. You think I chose to be this way?"

Duke reached out towards him. "Sorry.. I didn't mean it like that, I was just joking Beach. Just.. you left a awfully big hole behind when you died... and we all really missed you. Even Flint kind of misses you."

"Yeah right.. Flint don't miss me, not unless he just misses getting headaches." BeachHead grinned to himself. As a shadow, no one could particularly see his expression. "I still got my rank, though... right?"

Looking surprised, Duke nodded. "I guess so. The Army doesn't remove rank after death. I mean.. widows get their compensation according to the deceased person's rank.. and there's burial privileges according to rank.. so.. that would mean to me, at least, that even if you're dead, you still keep your rank. Make sense?"

TunnelRat nodded. "I agree. Folks get military funerals according to their rank, so dead folks got rank. So Beach has his rank still. But..." He paused and then glanced nervously at the shadow nearby. "Does he still get paid?"

"A'course I get paid!" BeachHead appeared and gave Duke a perturbed look. "Don't I still get paid?"

Duke glared at the corporal. "I don't know Beach. Usually dead people don't get paid. We'll have to figure that out. But.. really, what would you need pay for? You're dead.. you don't need a retirement fund.. and you can't exactly go buying stuff, right?"

"Well.. I might wanna buy stuff. I dunno. But dang it.. I should get paid if I'm still working. And I intend to work.. I just went on a mission.. I should get paid, dang it!" The ghost flashed visible and then faded again. "Being dead blows."

Duke managed not to smile. "We'll work something out. I'm sure there's some way to fix it Beach."

TunnelRat spoke up again, making Duke want to kick the smaller man. "What about his bank accounts? Cause he's dead.. what happened to them?"

"WHAT?!" Beach stood up, passing through the restraining straps. "What do ya mean??"

The small man cringed back. "Sorry Beach.. don't be mad! I just was wonderin'... I mean.. what happened to all your bank accounts and your stuff? If you're dead.. did you have a will?"

Suddenly BeachHead settled back into his seat. "I left all my stuff to Lifeline. I'd talked to him before about what I wanted to happen.. and he would deal with all of it if I ever died. He probably gave the money to CoverGirl.. I guess. I guess I better talk to him. Did you guys throw out all my stuff outa my room? I haven't been back there..."

Kamakura spoke up. "Why not? Where do you sleep?"

"I don't sleep you danged spook. Ghosts don't sleep. We just.. " He trailed off and waved a hand about vaguely. "Sort of.. fade.. you know. When I wanna rest I just let myself fade.. I guess. I don't really remember, just.. I miss time. Sometimes I sort of feel like I wake up and it's later.. but I'm not sleeping'." He looked away. "I wonder if LowLight threw out all my stuff."

TunnelRat cleared his throat. "He didn't. He put it in boxes and it's still there. I helped him pack it up.. cause he said he couldn't keep lookin' at all yer stuff, knowin' ya weren't gonna come back. Of course.. we didn't know you'd be comin' back.. as a ghost an' all."

Beach seemed to be relieved. "Oh good." He looked at the floor a little. "You think he'd mind a bunch.. if I was back? I mean.. I dunno if he wants to share a room with a ghost."

"What do you need a room for if you don't sleep?" Duke had gone back to scribbling down his reports.

"I need a place for stuff. And maybe I want to sit somewhere and think. I want my space."

"Okay okay.. we'll work it all out Beach.. don't get upset. There's gonna be issues.. and we'll figure out how to best deal with them. It'll just take some time. Okay? I'll figure out how to make sure you get paid.. and we'll figure out what happened with the accounts.. talk to Lifeline.. it'll work out. Calm down." Duke pointed at him. "Shouldn't you have the safety harness on?"

"Why?" BeachHead's tone was still a little sulky. "What's gonna happen? I might fall down, bump my head and die? I think I'm past that now."

"What if ya fall outta the plane? If ya lose your balance or something and fall.. ya could fall through the wall of the plane. Ya said ya can't fly." TunnelRat sounded concerned.

"If I can pass through the plane, I can pass through the webbing straps. Gawd.. this is givin' me a headache." BeachHead looked at the wall of the cargo plane. "I wonder... " He got up and walked over to put one hand on the wall.

Duke spoke up quickly. "Beach.. don't!"

He pushed his head through the wall, and immediately yanked it back inside. "Oh... yeah.. that's bad.." He went back to sit down looking shaken up. "That's really... bad.. won't be doin' that no more." Fastening his restraints, he wrapped a hand around the brace next to his jump seat and let himself fade to a shadow again.

Duke looked from the wall to the shadow. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it... jus' leave it be, Duke."

Duke nodded and went back to the paperwork instead. If it was something that disturbed a ghost, he was certain it would give him screaming nightmares. Better off not knowing.

* * * *

End Chapter

Well, that was kind of fun wasn't it? Beach was darned successful in his first mission, and I hope there was plenty of funny bits in it. Next up, he'll be back at the Pit trying to fit himself back into normal life as best he can.

I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to review or message!


	8. Chapter 8

As requested, this is some of what's going on around the Pit with the newly returned resident ghost. Plus Beach running PT.

Thank you for being patient while my computer has been down! It looks like the computer will have it's OS re-installed and I'll have it back soon! Yay! Not that I don't love this dinosaur, it's the bestest computer EVER! *pets dino-puter* Don't die dinosaur!

* * * *

Chap 8

Once back at the Pit, BeachHead spent the evening gone from view. He'd stayed long enough to check on CoverGirl after Hawk had questioned him about the mission. When he'd reappeared in a hallway hours later, all was quiet. Roaming through the hallways, he let himself fade to invisible and made his rounds without alerting anyone to his presence. Outside the quarters of CoverGirl and LadyJaye, he'd stood for several minutes, 'listening' to her via the unearthly sense. He could only vaguely feel that she was there.. same as how he could 'feel' most of the Joes he was familiar with. Even the ninjas extruded some sort of feel to them.

Speaking of ninja.. he turned and peered along the hallway as he felt Kamakura drifting along the ceiling bent on some strange ninja mission known only to him and his Sensei SnakeEyes. Beach walked along underneath him as he oh-so-carefully crept along unseen in the shadows. Finally the young man made his way into the communications center where Breaker was on duty, seated with a cup of coffee watching his various screens for any disturbance.

Kamakura slipped down the wall in absolute silence, creeping up behind the comm officer carefully, lowering himself to the floor in a incredibly stealthy move. Somehow he seemed to be merely part of the shadows. BeachHead moved himself to stand right beside Breaker and waited until Kamakura had his questing fingers almost on the prize he was after, Breaker's shiny gold pen laying on the edge of the desk. It was a oft-stolen item, always returned, but always rather jealously guarded. Breaker would always pitch a fit and it would reappear as mysteriously as it disappeared and everyone knew it was ninja theft training, but no one actually acknowledged it outright.

Just as the apprentice's fingers were about to touch the pen, Beach scooped it up and dangled it in front of the startled Breaker's eyes. "Gonna lose this."

"HOLY SMOLEY!!" Breaker jumped back in his chair and gasped then brushed frantically at his lap where the hot coffee had landed. "Beach?? God help me!! You're gonna kill me giving me a heart attack!!"

"Sorry.." Beachhead settled into view standing beside him, still holding the pen. "Thought you'd like me preventing another pen theft."

"What are you talking about? There's no one here but me and you!" Breaker twisted his swivel chair around in a half circle to check the rest of the comm room. "You're not.. you know.. going kind of.. 'out there' mentally right? I don't mean anything bad by it.. but maybe you should talk to Psyche-Out?"

Beach snorted. "Kamakura was stealing it.. he's underneath your chair."

Breaker jumped out of his chair and peered down at the embarrassed apprentice who had desperately curled himself around the base of the chair under him to remain unseen. It was a downright amazing display of ninja abilities.. completely stymied by being caught out by the ghost.

Breaker pointed at him. "Get OUT of there! What are you doing under my chair!! You guys STOP stealing my stuff! I am SO talking to SnakeEyes about this!"

Kamakura looked miserable and got to his feet, clasping hands in front of himself and giving a deep bow of respect towards the communications specialist. "My humble apologies, Breaker. I am merely improving my skills as a thief to better serve the team. I would have returned your item."

"Yeah well.. I don't want it returned! I want it not to leave in the first place." Breaker pointed at the door. "I don't want you back in here tonight! Go on! Out! OUT! And I'm reporting this to Duke in my shift report!!" His words traveled after the rapidly departed apprentice. Beaker reseated himself, righting his now empty cup and cursing softly under his breath about the absurdity of ninjas on the team.

"Ya want yer pen back?" BeachHead's amused tone made Breaker roll his eyes and hold out his hand for it. "Sorry I startled ya so bad.. he almost had it. Sneaky buggers."

"Spooky.. no offense of course."

"None taken." BeachHead watched him as he straightened his consoles and rechecked all the settings to be sure he hadn't missed anything while distracted.

"So what were you doing? Trailing after Kamkaura.. or.. umm" Looking a bit nervous, Breaker looked determinedly at his screens. ".. or have you been here all along?"

"I was just patrolling the halls and saw him. Or well.. that's hardly fair.. I felt him and then spotted him." He sighed.

"Problem? You okay Beach? Other than the whole.. you know.." Breaker still seemed uncomfortable.

"The 'bein' dead' part? Yeah, I'm fine. I rested a while then when I came back it was night shift and most everyone is asleep. I'm jus' wanderin' around checking things."

"So you're bored? I didn't know ghosts would get bored. I mean.. I guess so.. you don't sleep?"

"Naw.. not really. Sort of go away and rest, more like." BeachHead settled into the other chair in the room and propped his chin up on his elbow to look at the screens with Breaker. "There's nothin' really fer me to do. I can make rounds.. but everything is in order.. even all the danged guards are awake."

"Did you check the double guard on the server room door?" BeachHead nodded. "Wow.. you really were bored if you went all the way down there. Sorry. The kitchen should be gearing up soon for the baking. It's monday now." Breaker checked his watch. "Probably another half hour."

"Yeah? Maybe I'll go check and see what they're doin' too?" Beach sat up and sighed, letting himself fade somewhat until he was transparent. "You want I should go get you a new cup of coffee?"

"Can you do that? I mean.. well.. yeah. Sorry. I forget you can pick things up. It's kind of weird having you around as a ghost. I mean.. I'm glad you aren't gone. Well.. I guess... you should be off in heaven though, so maybe being back sucks. Are you happy to be here? Or do you.. uhh.. yearn to be in heaven?"

Giving him a puzzled look, BeachHead leaned back in the chair. "Yearn? Whacko. No, I don't feel like I should be no where but here. I don't _feel_ dead, ya know. I feel mostly just like I always felt. It's still a little weird to have everyone think I'm dead.. I mean.." He sighed. "I mean, _know_ I'm dead. Dang it.. I just don't feel dead." He reached to pass a hand through the edge of the console. "Doing stuff like walkin' through walls is startin' to feel natural though... kind of worries me."

Watching one of the screens flicker, Breaker put a hand out. "Don't do that.. you'll disrupt the systems."

"Sorry." Beach slid the chair back slightly further. The screen stopped flickering and he tilted his head at Breaker. "I guess I'm not very good at sitting comm duty anymore either. I'm not a lotta good to no one."

Breaker watched him fade into a shadow. "That's not true. You did great on the mission. TunnelRat told me how you scouted the rooms ahead and even put down two guards easily without any of the Joe team being in any danger. Plus, you report half a dozen minor issues here at the Pit every day. Little stuff that passes everyone's attention, but it could cause major issues later if it wasn't corrected. Heck, even catching lurking ninjas before they can bug me.." Beach chuckled a little. "See? And later on when Hawk has time to really think it out better, he'll have more things that only you could do, I'll bet. Scouting places without anyone seeing you is one of the best things I can think of right now. But I'm not all smart like General Hawk, he'll think up new things too."

"I guess. I'm gonna run PT too. I already told 'em I was. No reason I can't as long as I can reach to the PT fields. I dunno if I can run the fenceline anymore. My tags gotta be moved to a higher spot in the danged Pit. Hawk's offices is too deep."

"You can't reach? Why do your tags matter? You're wearing them. I can see the chain." Breaker casually flicked a few switches adjusting monitors.

"My real tags are in Hawk's office. I can't go no where without them." He lifted the faded ones off his chest and sighed. "These.. these are like me.. not the real me.. the physical me. That's buried in Arlington." He turned a curious gaze on the comm man. "Didja ya go to my funeral?"

"Yep. Got in my dress uniform. Wore the tie and everything." Breaker looked at him. "I'll even admit.. I cried. I couldn't believe you were gone. It was really pitiful how many of us were bawling like a bunch of babies."

"Ya'll cried over me?" BeachHead looked startled and flashed into fully visible.

"Well, yeah. You know.. not everyone was bawling I guess. But there was a lot of wiping of eyes. We really missed you, man. No one wanted you to go and get shot up like that."

Beach chewed at his tongue thinking a few minutes. "Did Flint cry?"

"Oh well.. you know.. " Breaker looked at his console intently avoiding the ghost's gaze. "You know, I couldn't see Flint from where I was standing. I'm pretty sure he was upset.. maybe he cried. A little. LadyJaye was crying. Weeping even."

"So Flint wasn't upset I was dead then." Beach seemed annoyed. "Figures."

"No no.. Flint WAS upset.. I just don't know if he actually cried.. I couldn't really see. I mean.. maybe he was holding it in.. doing the stern officer bit because Hawk wasn't crying at the funeral. I heard he did here at the Pit.. but he was doing the whole 'serious formal officer general thing' at the funeral. Maybe Flint was doing that too." Breaker was hoping he hadn't somehow set the ghost off on some vendetta against the warrant officer.

"Oh.. well.. I guess. I mean, if Hawk wasn't cryin' then I can't hold it against Flint." Breaker breathed a deep sigh of relief as BeachHead continued. "It was a nice ceremony though? They didn't make up stuff about me being all rosy and nice or nothin, did they?"

Breaker shook his head. "No.. why are you so curious about your own funeral.. couldn't you see it?"

"No of course not! I was dead!" BeachHead blinked suddenly feeling a bit of a catch to himself. "I.. was... dead.. bein' buried.. in the ground." His form faded drastically. "In the dirt..."

"Beach!? You okay? Hey!" Breaker succeeded in catching the ghost's attention. "Take it easy! Let's talk about something else.. you're getting all weird."

"Alright.." The soft distracted voice did little to reassure the specialist.

"Okay.. okay.. so.. uhh..tell me.. tell me how did it feel to ride in the plane? Tell me about the plane ride Beach.. did it feel different?"

"No.. not really." BeachHead stared blankly ahead.

"Okay.. how.. umm. How did you take out the two guards? Tell me how you did that? Beach? Tell me about the guards! For god's sake.. don't fade away! I'm sorry!" Breaker wanted to reach for the Sergeant major but felt it would possibly make him disappear. His distaste for being touched was becoming common knowledge.

"What?" The ghostly brown eyes turned to look at him.

"Tell me how you took out those two guys for TunnelRat.. come on.. tell me.." Breaker felt relieved when the indistinct gaze began to focus and the figure brightened into a fully formed apparition. "Tell me how you did that."

"Well.. I walked through the floor sorta.. and I stayed invisible so he wouldn't get startled and call his buddies.. and then I picked up a board and whapped him in the head. I couldn't think of nothing faster and there was this board laying there."

Breaker nodded. "Good thinking."

Warming to his tale, Beach smiled under the mask. "The second one I had more time to think about.. so I waited till I was right on top of him and made him see me then I punched him in the face.. it was grand!" Relaxing fully, the ghost laughed softly. "Man.. you should have seen the look on his face.."

Breaker grinned at him. "I bet it looked like he seen a ghost, huh?"

Beach stared at him for two very long seconds before he started chuckling. "Yeah.. good one Breaker.."

"You did a good job." Breaker was reassured that the ghost was back to normal.. or as normal as a ghost could be. He made a mental note to talk to Hawk first thing in the morning without BeachHead present about the incident.

* * * *

Eventually Beach wandered into the kitchen finding Roadblock working hard and supervising his crew as they mixed up dough and batters. He carefully stayed visible, the ingrained habit of not getting on the chef's bad side still keeping him wary.

Roadblock nodded at him, looking a little uneasy. "Hey Beach. Something I can help you with?"

"Naw.. just looking to see what you were doin'." He walked closer to peer at the bread dough the heavy gunner was kneading. "Kneading looks hard."

"It's a workout, that's for sure, my man." The mass of dough was pushed and twisted and rolled easily on the floured surface of the counter. "You just checking on things, huh?"

"Yep." BeachHead wandered the huge kitchen, staying out of the way and finally bringing himself back to Roadblock's side. He turned and hopped up to sit on the counter a few feet away.

Roadblock glared at him. "Get off my clean counter."

"Why? I ain't physical no more.. don't carry no dirt." Beach held up his hands and shook them. "See? I won't get nothin' dirty."

"Maybe so.." The cook shook his head. "I ain't got used to having you around as a ghost." He looked over again. "You sure there ain't nothing I can get for you? Usually you hanging out in my kitchen means you're going to attempt to snatch some food."

"Well.. that's not likely anymore." At the cook's puzzled expression, Beach sighed. "I don't eat now. I mean, anymore. Ghosts don't eat."

"Oh." Roadblock turned his attention to the dough for a moment, separating it into smaller hunks and working each briefly before shaping them into loaves. "So you don't eat at all?'

"No." Beach watched the bread loaves lining up on the counter. "I miss eating. I liked food. Bein' dead does blow."

"Yeah, it sure seems that way. But you know.. there's that whole 'beats the alternative' thing too."

Now Beach snorted loudly. "Well, not really. I already did the 'alternative' and it wasn't no fun either." He looked longingly at the grills being fired up to begin the early breakfast shift. "I do wish I could taste yer cookin' one more time." He sighed and hitched himself off the counter. Without warning or departing words, he disappeared and Roadblock looked around.

"Beach?" He shook his head and wiped down the spotless counter anyway. "Wish you could taste it too, my man. Wish you could, indeed."

* * * *

"Pick it up ya maggots!" The familiar bellow spurred the Joes to move even faster through the obstacle course. "TunnelRat if'n yer too danged short to reach the top of that wall I'll come out there and KICK YA OVER!" He watched the specialist leap up and snag the top edge of the wall and lift himself up by sheer arm strength. "GOOD JOB! Now if'n ya teach Jaye that, we'll ALL get outa here sooner!"

Turning to look over at the small group preforming push-ups, he stalked over to bend down to Shipwreck. "Why don't I hear ya laughing Ship? It ain't funny no more ta have 'Caspar the unfriendly ghost' running yer PT?!?"

"NO SERGEANT MAJOR! NOT FUNNY AT ALL!" Shipwreck seemed rather winded, which was unsurprising considering he was his second set of a hundred push-ups in between running the obstacle course AFTER running an additional five miles.

"No? Well I find it DANGED HYSTERICAL!! I think ya oughta be laughin' it up! Do I hear ya laughin yet?!" Beach bent closer to pitch his bellow directly into the sailor's ear. "I wanna hear some LAUGHIN' RIGHT DANGED NOW!!!"

"Ha ha ha ha!!" Shipwreck did his best to gasp out his laughs in between push-ups.

"That's better." Twisting on his heel, BeachHead stalked through the rest of the group. "Ain't none of ya'll amused no more?!" He sneered at them. "Fall out! Ya bunch of lightweight pogues! FALL OUT!" They all lept to their feet and stood quietly except for deep breathing. "If ya got issues with me running PT ya better take it up with HAWK! I don't wanna hear NO MORE jokes at me while I'm out here running PT! AM! I! UNDERSTOOD!!?!"

"YES SERGEANT MAJOR!!" The loud instant chorus mollified the ghost somewhat and he dismissed them. Shipwreck continued his push-ups until BeachHead crouched beside him.

Resting his elbows on his knees, Beach watched the sweat stream off the red face and drip onto the ground. "Stop." The sailor collapsed into the grass. "Ain't nuthin' new 'bout ya makin' fun of me, Ship.. but ain't gonna be no disrespect out here when I'm runnin' drill. Especially not while I'm tryin' to regain my standin' with everybody." He paused. "We gotta understandin' here?"

"Yeah Beach. Sorry.. I was just making a joke.. didn't mean no disrespect. Won't happen again." Shipwreck turned his head enough to peer up at the ghost who stared at him for a moment. "Am I done?"

"Yeah.. you sure look done. Go shower." Beach rose to his feet easily, watching the errant Navy man clamber to his feet and stagger off to the Pit entrance. Looking around at his course, BeachHead shifted his shoulders inside his armored tactical vest in a familiar comforting move. He felt a slight tug from his dog tags and let his attention flow back along the tenuous line running between himself and his anchor. Hawk had taken them out again.. another stronger tug as the general called him, and BeachHead shifted and faded to reappear next to him.

"Sir?" He watched the jump and startlement. "Did you need me?"

"BeachHead.. good lord.. you keep doing that and I'll go gray before my time." Hawk smoothed a hand over his auburn hair. "Yes.. I wanted to find out where a good place will be for your tags. I don't want to keep handing them off to people, but I don't want them just laying around either."

Beach sighed lightly. "The motorpool, sir. It's the center of the whole base.. I can reach all the way to the lowest level easily and I'll be able to go beyond the fenceline in every direction. If'n I need to go further than that, someone will just have to carry the tags."

"Sounds good.. but we can't just hang them up on a nail on the wall." Hawk began walking down the corridor towards the personnel lifts.

"Why not?" Settling in to one side and a step behind his commanding officer, Beach kept pace in his usual way.

"Well.. it's just not fitting." Hawk tried to think of a better reason to give than that. Finally he grimaced. "And I don't want any potential for pranking going on either. I'd rather remove the temptation."

"Gotcha. There's a lockbox up there fer keys to some of the vehicles. No one hardly uses it none so it's never locked. Wouldn't be no big deal to use it fer my tags if'n you want to."

"Sounds perfect. I'll have some copies of the key made so several responsible people have access at any given time. Be the best place for these things for right now." Hawk seemed decisive.

"If that's all sir..?" Beach managed to sound slightly annoyed while staying just this side of respectful.

"That's all.. as you were." Already thinking of who he needed to get keys made for, Hawk didn't see BeachHead vanish through a wall instead of using the hallways. "Let's see.. Duke and Flint.. Scarlett and SnakeEyes.. Lifeline and Doc and Stalker. That should be enough access..."

* * * *

End chapter

Well.. Beach in the Pit. I hope everyone is still enjoying. More soon! Please review, let me know what you think. As always, don't hesitate to message me with questions or comments.


	9. Chapter 9:Guns and Girlfriends

Chap9

More of BeachHead at the Pit, trying to fit himself back into the normal routine of the Pit and spending time with CoverGirl as well.

* * * *

Once back at the Pit, most of his teammates seemed a bit more at ease. Given some time to adjust to the wild idea, they settled in to life with a resident ghost. BeachHead had hesitantly approached LowLight who seemed rather blasé about having a shade as a roommate. "At least I won't find stray socks under the bed anymore..." was his only comment.

Taking his stuff out of boxes occupied him for most of a day. Once done, he'd sighed and felt a bit foolish. He didn't need most of the things he owned. In a sudden fit of energy, he got rid of all the clothing he could no longer wear. Looking at his weapons in the armory, he'd gone out to the gun ranges to watch the Joes training.

"Hey Beach.." LowLight's mellow voice didn't sound in the least surprised to see him. The sniper never seemed surprised at anything at all. "Something I can help you with, Sergeant major?"

"I dunno." BeachHead's hands went into his pockets as he looked at the rifles and handguns being handled. "I dunno if I can fire a weapon anymore. Takes a lot of concentration to hang on to things now."

LowLight considered that while staring out at the row of troopers firing at targets. "Never know until you give it a try. Come on.. we'll see how it goes." He strode down to a free firing bench and plucked up on of their M16 rifles. Pulling the clip out and checking it was full, he slammed it back into place and held it out to the ghostly form that faded slightly then pulsed back to fully visible.

"I dunno.." Beach still reached to take the rifle, concentrating on keeping his hands solid to grasp it. Seating himself at the bench, he settled the rifle into the familiar cradled firing position. "I just hafta really think about being solid in a lotta spots..." LowLight didn't bother to reply.. standing just to the rear to watch him shifting himself around to prep for firing. BeachHead lowered his head to peer through the sights at the target, relaxing as the familiar movements seemed so natural.. his hand passed through the rifle stock and he cursed and concentrated more on his grip.

LowLight spoke up quietly. "The butt is through your shoulder. Move it forward.. make your whole torso solid maybe?"

"Dang it.. it takes a lotta energy outa me to stay solid all over.." Beach took a breath and put out an effort to remain completely solid to hold the weapon firmly. Sighting down the barrel again, he became still and finally curled a finger around the trigger. "Firin'..."

The retort of the rifle going off was followed by a clatter as it landed on the concrete behind the bench.. followed by loud cursing from the Ranger. LowLight scooped up the M16 and checked it out, racking the slide back and dropping the clip to be certain nothing was damaged. He set the rifle back onto the bench and motioned at it. "Want to try it again?"

"Yeah.. I guess so. When it went off, I lost my grip entirely. Couldn't hold on, I just turned insubstantial and lost it." Beach shook his arm slightly and then settled back into place tentatively. "I'll concentrate more."

Several tries later and Beach felt himself beginning to fade badly. He stood while LowLight hefted the rifle. The sniper had begun to catch the weapon before it even hit the ground, able to make the grab as it jerked free of the ghostly hold and passed through the mist of BeachHead's body.

"Sorry Beach.. I guess it just isn't going to work." LowLight reloaded the clip and put the weapon back into the rack at the back of the range. "Sorry. I guess you can't do everything you used to. There's gonna be some stuff that way, you know."

"Yeah.." BeachHead's disappointment was evident in his soft voice. "There's a lotta stuff I can't do now. This's just one more way I can't help out no more." He turned to walk away and LowLight snorted loudly.

"Yeah.. now you can become invisible, walk through any barrier, disrupt electronics, and all that.. I don't think you'll be any less useful just because you can't fire a rifle. Any moke can shoot a gun. You're just going to be helping out in different ways now, Beach.. don't act like a morose slacker." He gave his roommate a last sharp nod. "You'll do fine."

Straightening up, Beach nodded back. "Yeah.. jus' gotta figure out what I'm good at now. Thanks." He strode off for about ten steps and disappeared from view abruptly. LowLight ignored the disappearance as part of normal life with a ghost around and turned his attention back to the other Joes firing the weapons off.

* * * *

CoverGirl spent a lot of time with him nearby. When he wasn't occupied with harassing recruits and Joes alike on the PT courses, or roaming through the base looking for things going wrong, he tended to hang out happily in the motorpool with her. While he didn't know as much about engines, he did know how to fetch a tool or a small part for her. Clutch had multiple heart failures every day for a week as he got used to the idea that BeachHead could and would appear at a random moment.

CoverGirl realized fairly quickly that she could call him by name and get him to appear within a moment or so. They had a fairly loud argument over it at one point.

"Don't jus' be yelpin' fer me to pop up. I got things to do." He crossed his arms. CoverGirl sat at the messhall table and pointed to the chair. "I'm in the middle of somethin'. Didja need me fer any reason?"

"I wanted to have dinner with you. We always had dinner together."

"That was when I had to eat, I don't eat now!" He sat in a graceless slump.

"Well, you can sit with me while I eat. I don't see what the issue is!"

"I don't like ya jus' yellin' my name to make me appear."

"Why not? It's more convenient than paging you, which you ignore most of the time anyway." She began to salt her chicken and he reached out to remove the shaker from her hand, setting it aside. "Gimme the salt back!"

"You don't need more salt. And I do so respond to paging."

"Really? Then why are you objecting to me 'paging' you with your name instead of the PA system?" She snatched the salt back and shook it over the food again.

"Because the PA system means I got a choice!"

She waved a fork at him. "Ahhh see! So you admit you ignore the paging!?"

"I didn't say that! Jus' cause I gotta choice doesn't mean I do it!"

"Right! Then why do you care if I call your name rather than call your name over the PA?"

He glowered at her and got up and disappeared. She narrowed her gaze and looked at the ceiling. "BEACHHEAD!!"

He reappeared, gritting his teeth. "Stop it!"

"Stop what? Sit down." She went back to eating her dinner and he gave up and sat.

"Happy? Now I'm sitting here uselessly watching you do something I can't do. Make ya happy?"

She smiled at him snarkily. "Blissfully happy. Thank you dear." He snorted and looked away. "So.. how was your day? How are you feeling?"

He looked at her and tilted his head back as he replied in a bored tone. "I went for a run, supervised the PT, yelled a lot, talked to Hawk and Duke about some greenshirts, and last time I checked, I'm still dead. How about you, sweetie-pie?"

She smirked back at him. "Smartass. I rebuilt the brakes on the third Mauler. Adjusted the treads too. They are always too tight, and it wears them out too fast." She took a second to drink some of her milk. "Clutch helped me change out the tires on our big transport truck."

Beach watched her and reached to push the bread roll closer to her plate. "You want more milk?"

"Naw, I'm good, thanks." She smiled a genuine smile at him. "I do love you. I missed you coming to hang out in the motorpool. I figured you were busy though."

"Yeah.. we're gonna promote at least three greenies. I want to build up a fourth troop, that means some new sergeants and Flint thinks we should just use Joes to be in charge, cause Flint's a danged idiot. The whole point of having the greenshirts as support troops is cause we ain't got enough Joes." She nodded but didn't get to comment.

"Well maybe having Joes in charge is better than having inexperienced greenshirts taking charge!" Flint's voice startled them both. "If they were command material they'd be Joes, not greenshirts."

Beach replied hotly. "Just because they're support troops don't mean they ain't able to be in charge of themselves!"

"No, it means they aren't good enough to be Joes.. and not good enough means they should stay troops! Maybe if they're representative wasn't always teaching them to ignore us commanders, they'd learn things!" Flint's scowl made BeachHead's face darken in anger.

"Maybe if ya acted like ya didn't think they was cannon fodder, they'd respect ya more!" The Ranger's form flared brighter as he got incensed.

Flint shook his head. "Maybe you should stop considering them your personal soldiers and stop disparaging me!"

BeachHead stood up. "Maybe you need to keep yer danged nose outa my personal conversations."

"Maybe you better remember your place!" Flint frowned at CoverGirl. "Good evening CoverGirl." He turned back to sniff at BeachHead and then left.

"Danged idiot.." BeachHead snorted at his retreating back. "I swear.. even dead I don't like him. You'd think I was more charitable now that I'm dead and all, but I still just wanna poke him in the eyeball."

CoverGirl sighed, watching the warrant officer leaving. "Maybe you should just talk to him some. I mean.. he has to listen now, he can't exactly slam a door in your face." BeachHead's face lit up and she shook her head. "Oh no.. no no.. you have some wicked horrible idea now.. it's not my fault! Beach.. don't do it.."

"Do what? I'm jus' gonna follow yer advice. Flint has to listen to me.. besides.. that's his job. To listen to his subordinates." He got up and bent to press lips to her head briefly. The physical touch was rare, and she smiled at him. "Have a good evening."

He wandered off, whistling softly to himself and disappearing. Scarlett came to CoverGirl's table. "Hey.. this chair taken? How you been, girlfriend?"

"Oh fine.. you know.. work on tanks, do PT, listen to my dead boyfriend gripe, eat dinner.. same old same old." She smiled at Scarlett who laughed.

"Yeah.. the life of a Joe.. my days are just as boring.. do PT, throw people around, beat up my boyfriend, do paperwork, throw more people around, shoot things, play find-the-ninja for dinner, and take a shower."

CoverGirl laughed. "You forgot the 'talk with your girlfriends about your boyfriend' part."

"Oh? How could I forget that part? How silly of me." Scarlett laughed and borrowed the pepper to shake on her dinner and began eating. "Sooo.. how're things? Beach looked fairly content."

"He's up to something.. I think he and Flint are about to have another knock-down-drag-out fight about something. At least now Flint can't break his nose." CoverGirl twisted and popped her back loudly. "I think I'm going to take a extra long hot shower tonight. Then it's bed early."

"Don't wait up on me.. I gotta date with Snakes, upstairs.." Her smirk told of a clandestine meeting. "Sorry.. I don't mean to remind you.. you know.."

CoverGirl smiled lightly. "It's fine. We can touch a little.. it's enough. When I consider the alternative.. which almost was..it's enough." She sighed towards the now empty doorway. "It's enough."

* * * *

End Chapter

Well... what's Beach up to? I hope you're still enjoying this AU fic and Thank You for reading! Feel free to review or message me about comments or questions!


	10. Chapter 10: Flint vs Ghost Beach

Chap10

Finally! Everyone's been waiting for the infamous BeachHead vs Flint scene. Here it is.

* * * *

Flint was at the end of his patience. "BeachHead.. shut up!" The shade looked up innocently from where he leaned against the doorframe. "Seriously.. shut up."

"What? I'm just standing here." His innocent look wouldn't have fooled a blind man.

"You're humming. Tunelessly... I might add. I got a lot of paperwork." Flint leaned over his desk again only to hear the same hum begin again. "STOP IT!"

"What? Oh.. humming.. yeah.. maybe I should stop." He came and stood in front of Flint's desk. "Hey.. you wanna hear a joke?"

"No."

"So.. what's blue and smells like red paint?"

"Beach.. go away."

"Blue paint."

Flint paused and then shook his head. "Gooooo away. That was horrible."

"What do you do when a warrant officer throws a pin at ya?"

"Beach, I'm not in the mood for this."

"Run like hell, cause he's got a grenade in his teeth.."

"That's not even funny."

* * * *

Two hours later, Flint was headed out followed by the abnormally cheerful Sergeant major. He still hadn't shut up.

"What happened when the warrant officer fired into the air?"

Flint groaned. "Shut up." He didn't have any hope of the order working. But he still had to try every so often.. just in case it would make the torment stop.

"He missed."

"You really suck at jokes.. I'm just saying. Nothing personal.."

BeachHead tilted his head. "Really? You mean that?"

"Yeah I do."

"I'll just have ta practice more...." Flint stopped and put his face in his hands. "What do ya call a boomerang that don't work?" He peered out from between his fingers. "A stick."

"I'm gonna stab myself in my ears.. I really am." He headed down the hallway. "I'm going to go to the security offices now.. you can go do something else. Go bother Duke.. I heard him disparaging green sweaters earlier. Really."

BeachHead followed along cheerfully. "Aww.. naw. It's okay.. I like hanging out with you Flint. I got nothing else to do... no where else to go.. no one else to talk to.."

"Oh.. that's just grand... what did I do to deserve this?" Flint sighed as he got into the elevator.

"You want it chronologically.. or arranged accordin' to level of offense I took at the time?" BeachHead reached over and poked each of the buttons for each floor between their floor and the level that Flint was headed to. Flint just sighed at him. "Juvenile, I know. Enjoyable too. I been waitin' fer years fer this."

"I noticed.. been saving up just for me? I'm flattered by the attention. I know I'm the most important concern in your life, that's why you're spending all this time trying to bug me. Because you're really upset that I was never impressed with you in life, so now you'll just bug me, proving that you really are worried about my opinion of you." Flint gave a smug stare as the elevator stopped at the next floor, dinged and the door opened and shut before continuing for the fifth time.

BeachHead mocked looking horrified for a second, then broke into a grin. "Wow.. using all them psychological training seminars, are we? Did you know.. I took those too? Funny how they jus' don't work when you know about them, huh? So... where was I? Oh yeah... " Flint groaned. Beach continued. "What's the difference between a failing paratrooper on a jump and a bad golfer?"

Despite himself, Flint looked at him. Beach smirked.

"A bad golfer goes 'whack, damn!' and a failing paratrooper goes 'damn, whack!'."

Flint felt himself begin to hyperventilate and bent over to breathe deeply. "Oh god.. please stop... please...."

"Where's Cobra Commander keep his armie?"

Flint looked up at him. Beach grinned.

"In his sleevie.."

"Oh god.."

* * * *

Two more extremely long hours later. BeachHead suddenly shut up and looked surprised. "Uh oh."

Flint gave in to the urge and looked over at him. "What? What now?"

"I think I jus' ran outa jokes..." BeachHead looked at the floor. "Yeah.. I think I just ran outa all the jokes I know.. huh. Never had that problem before.."

Flint punched the air in celebration. "YEAH!!! Yeah!!! You're DONE!! No more stupid jokes from you!!! HA!!! Stupid Ranger..."

"Yeah... so.. when's the last time you ran through the Army's Military Law? Did you know.. I can recite the Field Manual of Military Law by heart? Let me show you... we'll start with the Rules of Land Warfare.."

"Oh please no... not the by-laws..."

* * * *

"Ahhh.... my room.. my private 'no BeachHead's allowed' room.." Flint smiled as he looked at the Sergeant major standing behind him. "Sorry.. it's been fun..really.." He stepped inside and closed the door firmly in his face. "Jerk."

"Aww... that's not nice." Flint whirled to see BeachHead step through the wall. "I don't wanna leave Flint.. I'd miss ya."

"Beach, get out.. go away! Seriously!" Flint tried pointing at his door. "Get out."

"Oh.. you want me to leave?" BeachHead leaned against the wall. "No."

"No? What do you mean, 'no'??" Flint stripped off his shirt. "I'm going to bed.. you just talk to yourself as LONG as you want to."

"I won't talk while you're tryin' to sleep..."

"You won't?" The warrant officer felt a slight bit of hope. "No talking? No reciting the full Field Manual of how to dig foxholes? Really? You'll stop?"

"A'course... that'd be rude.. talkin' while yer tryin' ta sleep." Beach smiled. "I know.. I can sing ya ta sleep.. that'll be nice.." Flint groaned. "Let's see... what songs do I know?"

"Beach.. please.. I'm begging you.. what do you want? Whatever it is.. I'll do it. You want an apology? I'm sorry. I'm sooooo sorry. Will that make it okay? Will you just go away now?"

"Have you ever thought-a askin' me nicely? I mean.. instead of demandin' and orderin' me to do it?" BeachHead looked a bit annoyed.

Flint closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry. BeachHead, will you please leave so I can get some sleep?"

"No." The Ranger grinned at him. "See? Wasn't that easy? Now.. which song was it we decided on? Oh.. yes.."

"What do you mean 'we'? I just want you to shut up!"

"Ten thousand bottles o' beer on the wall.. ten thousand bottles o' beeeer... take one down.. pass it around... nine thousand, nine hundred and ninty-nine bottles o' beer on the wall. Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninty-nine bottles o' beer on the waaaall.. "

"Oh god.. shoot me.."

* * * *

"... six thousand, two hundred and forty-four bottles of beeeeeeer!" Beach hadn't lost any volume, nor gained any tone. Flint pulled the pillow off of his head and crawled out of the bed. "Hey, Flint.. where ya going?"

The warrant officer walked out.. wearing his pajama pants and a twitchy expression on his face. He stormed down to the night watch office. "Where's Duke?" The greenshirt on duty took one look at his face and stammered out a reply. "Fine."

Headed to the second floor security office, Flint was followed by a mercifully silent and invisible BeachHead. He ran down the hallway until he found Duke. Grabbing the man by the front of his shirt, Flint shook him frantically. "MAKE HIM STOP!!! FOR GOD'S SAKE!! MAKE HIM LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

Duke raised his eyebrows and reached to gently pry the clutching fingers loose. "Okay.. Flint... let's calm down. What are you talking about?"

Flint began to pace, grabbing his short hair and pulling on it. "It's BeachHead!! He won't shut up.. first it was jokes... then it was reciting military by-laws... then it's singing... and he's singing OFF KEY!! For god's sake, I KNOW he can carry a tune.. I've HEARD him sing before.. but he's doing it deliberately to drive me insane!! MAKE HIM STOP!"

Duke shook his head, smiling a little. "Oh come on now, Beach is just trying to get your goat.. just ignore him."

Flint grabbed him by his arms. "Duke.. it's been HOURS.. he's started singing 'ten thousand bottles of beer' and when he got to about eight thousand I totally LOST it and screamed at him at the top of my lungs.. he claimed it made him 'lose his place' so he STARTED THE HELL OVER!! MAKE HIM STOP!!!"

Duke was shaken again and blinked. "Okay.. calm down. Beach?" There was complete silence. "BeachHead? I know you're here somewhere listening.. it's too entertaining not to be listening to Flint having a nervous breakdown.." He distinctly heard the snicker. "Okay.. so.. you've had your fun. Now let Flint get some sleep. Really. No more bugging him.. no more disturbing his sleep tonight in any way. Let him be."

BeachHead appeared in the hallway, tucking his hands into his pockets and looking so smug that Duke struggled to not smile. "I dunno what he's talkin' about. I jus' wanted to spend some time with him.. you know.. work out our differences and such."

Flint hid behind Duke who rolled his eyes and pointed at the Sergeant major. "Yes, well, that's enough 'working out of differences' for tonight. Flint's had enough. Leave him alone. Oh.. and no going into people's private rooms without permission. That's off-limits entirely from now on."

Beach nodded agreeably. "Okay.. understood." He smiled at Flint as the warrant officer walked quickly back down the hallway. "Ahh.. well."

Duke shook a finger at him. "I mean it.. no more. At least.. not tonight. I know you want payback.. but stop short of making him completely insane. Come and keep me company instead. I'm on night watch tonight, and it'll keep you out of trouble."

"Yes sir.." Beach threw one last look over his shoulder as Flint went onto the elevator. "That was an awful lotta fun though..."

Duke looked at him. "I heard that Hawk found some ghost experts to consult with. He tell you?"

"Yeah.. I ain't all that keen on chattin' up some experts, they'll probably try to zap me with holy water or some junk like that." Beach sounded sulky.

Duke shook his head. "I don't think Hawk would let someone try to.. umm.. hurt you. Dead or not. You are still one of his soldiers."

"You're probably right, sir. I shouldn't second guess Hawk. I ain't got a lot of choice if he decides to talk with them anyway." They continued along to the guard station.

"That's true.. you didn't really start reciting the Field Manual, did you?"

"Yep." Beach looked at him. "What? You don't have it memorized? Shouldn't every ranking Army man know it?"

"You know Beach.. you can be seriously irritating sometimes." Duke picked up the currant print-out and began to walk back along the hallways. "I've got to make a full patrol in a few minutes.. you wanna go along? Any snoozing guards are all yours to wake up."

The Ranger perked up. "Oh.. NOW yer talkin. Let's go patrol."

* * * *

End Chapter

Ahhh... the old NCO vs Officer battles.. gotta love when being dead gives you a leg up on your opponents. Next chapter will see some special guests making an appearance. I hope you are enjoying and as always, thank YOU for reading and feel free to review or message me with comments or questions. Please remember that I cannot answer you if you don't sign in to review.


	11. Chapter 11:Consulting Experts

Chap11

Guest Starring!!!

The Ghost Hunters. Jason and Grant. These two ghost experts investigate haunted places with scientific instruments attempting to disprove the haunting, in the hopes that they will in the process be able to prove ghosts exist. They always try to find mundane excuses for any evidence of a ghost, so that when they DO present any evidence of a ghost, it can't be dismissed as something mundane like specks of dust, a door hung slightly askew.. etc. Really super nice guys too. When they are not running TAPS, they are plumbers for Roto-rooter. Yes really.

I hope that you enjoy this chapter! Thank you for reading and feel free to review or message me. If you review without signing in, please remember that I cannot respond, so don't feel slighted.

* * * *

Hawk walked off the transport plane. Washington DC smelled like always. "Beach.. you still with me?"

The disembodied voice came from near his ear. "Yes sir. Convenient to not have to do paperwork to fly places no more."

Hawk smiled to himself. "Yes.. I could see the possibilities. Now you'll just sneak into any place that normally you'd have to pay an entrance fee."

"I wouldn't do that, sir. If'n I was gonna do that, I could do that when I was alive. Them ninjas ain't the only sneaky people in the Pit." Beach was silent a moment. "Are you sure we gotta go talk to ghost experts?"

Hawk sighed again, having had this argument since he'd told the ghost about it. "These are the best experts we could find willing to talk to us. They use scientific methods, instead of psychics and mumbo-jumbo. They might be able to tell me how to help you pass over."

"Well.. I don't wanna talk to 'em." BeachHead sounded upset.

Hawk sighed. "I'll talk to them. You're coming along. We're meeting them in their hotel room, without the tv cameras. There won't be any filming of you for the tv show. Hawes and Wilson seem like very professional guys."

"Yeah.. professional plumbers..."

"Beach.. be nice. They ARE ghost experts. Everyone I talked to recommended them, and they're nice.. they've investigated on military bases and ships, although decommissioned ships, before. It will be fine. Just relax." He paused. "Did you say goodbye to CoverGirl before we left the base?"

"Yeah. I didn't wanna not say bye.. you know, in case these ghost hunters trap me in a box or something." Beach didn't sound pleased at all.

Hawk shook his head. "That's the GhostBusters.. and they aren't real, that's just a movie. These guys just study ghosts.. they don't capture or trap them."

There was a soft grumble, but it subsided. Hawk could almost feel the presence behind him, just to the right where BeachHead had always followed. It was a comforting familiar feeling to know he was there.

* * * *

The hotel was a nice one, not posh, and not a rat-hole. Hawk glanced around himself in the hallway, standing in front of the room door. "Beach?"

"Here."

He peered around. "Where are you? Do you want to be visible to meet them?"

"No sir."

Since the tone sounded nervous, Hawk let it pass. "Okay then. Here we go." He knocked quickly on the door and waited. When it opened, he nodded his head politely. His neat casual appearance seemed to take the slender dark haired man aback.

"Hello.. ahh.. General Abernathy?" At his nod, the man stepped back from the door and waved him into a small meeting room. "Sorry.. I guess I expected to see a uniform.. ahh.. nice to meet you.. I'm Grant.. this is Jason.." His hand indicated another larger stocky guy who had just entered the room and held out a hand for Hawk to shake. "Please.. have a seat.. I understand you wanted to ask some questions about spirits?"

Hawk shook hands warmly with both. "Please call me Hawk. I'm not much for formal things and I'm definitely not here as a agent of the Army. I'd like to reiterate that this needs to be private.. off the record. No filming.. no repeating of the conversation, please. If that's not acceptable, I can't continue this meeting."

Jason smiled, looking just a little bit condescending, although in an amused fashion. "That's fine.. that's fine. We do a great deal of consultation off camera. The tv show isn't a big deal, it just pays the bills. We understand if you want this to stay private. The Army hasn't ever been really keen on publicly saying they believe in ghosts and spirits. Why don't you just tell us whatever you like.. and if we ask something you don't want to answer.. you just tell us. Okay?"

Grant nodded, seating himself across the table with his friend. Hawk settled into the chair and looked over his shoulder, not seeing even a hint of a shadow anywhere.

"Ah.. that would work well. I would like to thank you for taking the time to meet with me. You were highly recommended by everyone. I want to ask you.. about.. hmm..." He paused. "How do you help a spirit pass on? Just to get down to brass tacks. If there is a ghost of someone who died.. shouldn't they have passed over to another.. place?"

The two men exchanged glances. "Well.. I guess we don't need to convince you that ghosts exist then..." Hawk shook his head firmly. "Okay then. There's two kinds of ghost.. to keep it simple. There's intelligent hauntings, where there is a presence that is a person. Then there's what's called residual hauntings.. where it's like a bit of tape being replayed of something that happened before. Can you tell if the ghost responds to you.. or to others? Is it a intelligent presence or does it merely repeat an action over and over?"

Hawk ignored the soft snort behind him. "It's definitely a person and responds to us." He watched Grant look around suspiciously as if he'd overheard the snort and continued to speak. "It's not that we want to.. harm him. We just think it is better for him to... cross the veil.. or whatever ghosts do to go be at peace. It's better for a ghost to go.. do that sort of thing, right?"

Grant stopped looking around and nodded. "Generally ghosts are restless and unhappy, or confused. They don't usually try to be harmful, but yes, we feel they should be at rest or passed on to heaven or wherever it is that they should go."

"So there has to be a reason he's still here?" The general leaned on the table. Maybe he would be able to help Beach after all. "There's something that we can do.. to help him?"

Jason was giving him a bit of a suspicious glance. "Well.. no. Sometimes ghosts are just.. ghosts. They just didn't move on and they just hang out and do whatever it is that they're doing.. haunt places. They usually aren't dangerous or anything like that. But there isn't any sort of.. ghost spray to get rid of them." Beach muttered to himself behind Hawk, grumbling about the idea of someone trying to spray him with 'ghost-be-gone' spray if Hawk heard him correctly. Jason looked up. "Did you hear something?"

Hawk cleared his throat slightly. "This is.. off the record, yes?"

Both men nodded and Grant spread his hands to indicate he wasn't carrying a recorder. "We're not taping this.. it's all private. We're not going to repeat anything. We understand the military and how you wouldn't want to look like you're crazy."

Hawk sighed. "Well.. too late for that.. but at least they won't think I'm crazy regarding being haunted..." He turned to look behind him, but still didn't spot a shadow anywhere. "He's here. Ahh.. Jason and Grant.. meet Sergeant major BeachHead."

Both men looked, then looked at each other. Grant nodded politely. "Umm.. Yes. Nice to meet.. him.. I'm sure." Hawk sighed. "No really... it's okay. People sometimes believe there's a presence nearby... "

Hawk groaned. "BeachHead.. speak up. They'll think I'm nuts." There was silence, and Jason and Grant nodded and started to look uncomfortable. "You'd better speak up, appear to them. That's an order, Beach." He felt the air move behind him, and could almost feel the stubbornness in the air. "Alright. You made me do this." He dipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the dog tags to place them on the table. "These are his dog tags. We think he's somehow tied to them.. if you touch them.. he can feel it."

Grant began to reach across the table towards them and hesitated. "May I?"

There was a low growl in the air. "No."

Grant froze. "Hello?" He pulled his hand back. "I think I heard you.. would you like to say something?" After a couple minutes of silence, Jason reached out slowly. "Do you mind if we touch your dog tags? Tell us no, if you don't want us to touch them..."

Hawk crossed his arms and waited. He heard the soft hissed whisper in his ear. "Don't!! Don't let them touch them! Stop it! Sir!"

He shook his head. "Appear to them Beach. Talk to them. You don't have a choice."

Jason waited a few seconds and they all felt the air shift in the room. "I'm gonna pick up your tags now.. see?" His hand moved over the tags lying in the center of the table.

Suddenly the edge of the table next to Grant and Jason lifted up, causing the tags to slide across out of reach and into Hawk's surprised lap.

The general shouted and grabbed at them. "BeachHead! Stop that!" When his hand closed around the dog tags, BeachHead flashed into view between the two ghost experts, just letting go of the table where he'd lifted it.

"HOLY GEEEZ!!!" "WHAT THE FRIG!?" Both of the experts leapt up and dodged aside. Grant stumbled over a low stool and almost fell and BeachHead grabbed him out of reflex by one arm. "AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

"Shut up!" The balaclava clad figure pulled him upright and turned loose, then disappeared again. "I told ya this was a mistake, sir."

Jason and Grant looked around the blank room. "What the frig was that??" Jason reached out to his friend. "Grant.. you okay?"

"Yeah.. it just startled me.. it.. it pulled me to my feet! That's CRAZY!" Grant rubbed his arm a few times. "I mean.. Jay! It was like a real person almost.. just.. just cold.."

Jason held up a hand, looking around. "Hello? Can you... talk to us? Make yourself visible again?"

BeachHead snorted and appeared, standing behind his commander this time. His chin was tilted downward in a grumpy expression, arms crossed across the broad chest. They stared at him. "Whut?"

Grant shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. I mean... we've been trying to catch proof.. to... to have a personal experience to prove to even ourselves that our theories were right.. but.. this is nuts." He stepped over to the table and looked closer at the figure who faded slightly as he got closer. "Um.. thanks for.. uhh not letting me fall. Thank you." He stepped a little closer.

"Don't touch me!" BeachHead shifted further away and faded more to a shadow.

Hawk's voice was even and low. "Beach.. calm down."

"I'm calm. Tell 'em to stop it.. or I'm leavin'!" Beach's shadow shifted further away as Grant took another step.

Hawk snapped irritably. "BeachHead.. stop it. You're staying here." He rolled his eyes as the sergeant vanished. "Just because you're invisible doesn't mean you're not here."

"Get away from me!"

Grant stopped finally and held up his hands. "Okay.. okay.. look.. I'll stop. How about.. Jason and I sit back down at the table.. and you.. appear.. will that be okay?" He moved to the chair and righted it, motioning to the larger man to do the same. Once they were both seated, he spread his hands. "See? We're going to sit over here. Can you show yourself again? Should we lower the lights? Would that help?"

"It's fine." Beach appeared, back beside Hawk. "Don't be touchin' my dog tags, I don't like it when no one touches them."

Jason stared at him. "Okay.. we won't touch them. We just want.. to talk to you. Wow." He shook his head. "I've never seen such a solid real looking apparition. Usually.. we might see a shadow.. with most of the lighting down. This.. this is astounding."

Hawk cleared his throat. "Well.. now that you understand.. can you help us to help him?" They looked at him. "You know.. help him move on?"

Grant gave a startled jump. "Oh.. oh. Well.. like we were saying.. usually there's some unfinished business or something they want to say. But.. well... I guess he could just tell you what he wanted if that were true."

Beach nodded. "Yeah.. they already tried that. Had me write some long mushy danged letter saying goodbye and stuff. Then we let my girlfriend see me and say bye. Then I had a fight with her.. but anyway.. I said goodbye.. and I'm still here. I don't feel any need to leave or nothin'."

Hawk sighed. "I know Beach, but it's what you should do. You can't just.. wander around being a ghost."

Jason cleared his throat. "Ah.. actually, he can. There's been reports of unhappy ghosts that have been seen in particular areas for years. They usually stay around their home.. and when people do renovations, they appear a lot more, because it disturbs them when you alter their home. Ghosts don't seem to like change. I haven't ever.. well. This is just different. I've never met a ghost that just traveled around.. where is your home?"

BeachHead grunted irritably. "Classified. It's not in this state, let's say."

Grant nodded. "But.. how far? Is it a hundred miles? Twenty?"

Hawk smiled. "A lot further than a hundred miles. Like I said before, he seems to be tied to the dog tags. He can accompany whoever has the tags. And like you've seen, he doesn't like to have people touch them, says it feels weird."

BeachHead snorted and Grant looked at him again. "What does it feel like?"

Beach gave a sneer under the mask. "You ever had someone grab your balls?"

"Sorry I asked..." Grant shook his head. "Okay.. why are you wearing a mask?"

"I always wear it." Beach twisted slightly away. "Can't you ask nothing useful?"

Hawk admonished him mildly. "Beach.. behave."

Jason nodded to himself. "Sergeant major.. you don't feel a need to do.. anything?" He leaned forward. "Maybe you feel you should still be.. on duty? Is it as simple as that? You still think you should be serving the military?"

"Well yeah.. I.." BeachHead shrugged. "I'm a Ranger, it's what we do. We serve. I dunno about jumpin' outa no planes now.. but I'm on duty. Even if I don't get paid.." He gave a glare at Hawk who rolled his eyes.

"I told you, we'll figure something out about that. I'll pay you out of petty cash if nothing else. What do you want with money anyway?"

"Courtney's birthday is comin' up." Beach stopped.

Jason shifted forward. "You do understand that you're dead.. right?"

"Yeah.. I know.. I KNOW. Everyone keeps tellin' me that. I get it, I'm dead. I'm not stupid." BeachHead let himself fade to a shadow.

Grant looked at Hawk suddenly. "I think that he's irritated that he's dead.. he seems awfully grumpy."

Hawk grinned. "Oh no.. Beach was always grumpy and irritable. He doesn't yell at people nearly as much now that he's dead."

"Oh." The slender man rubbed a hand over his hair and glanced at the shadow. "Are you tired? Are you having trouble staying visible?"

"No, and no." Beach brought himself back to fully visible to prove it.

Jason tilted his head. "Well... if he knows he's dead.. did you take him to his.. ahh.. grave? I assume you buried the body."

Hawk turned to look at his sergeant major. "No.. I didn't take him to his grave. We haven't gone this far from base.. so.. " He paused. "Would you like to see where we buried you?"

"I dunno." Beach faded and came back as he considered. "I guess.. would be good to pay my respects anyway." He turned with a look of pride to the two ghost experts. "Hawk buried me in Arlington National Cemetery."

Grant smiled. "Does that please you? Being buried there?"

Beach shifted his weight a bit. "I guess so. I mean.. if I gotta be buried, I like being buried in Arlington. It's an honor. If you gotta be dead, I guess."

Jason spoke in a quiet tone. "He might.. disappear when he sees his grave. It could be the last thing to prove to him that he should move on. He might just need that last step."

Hawk nodded. "It's not that I won't miss you, BeachHead.. it's just.. I feel like we're cheating you out of your eternal rest. Blazes.. I couldn't get you to take your vacation time.. now I'm struggling to get you to take your forever rewards."

Grant suddenly leaned over the table. "Could we take some readings? I know you don't want any.. filming. But just for our own information.. we'd love to have readings on a real confirmed ghost, to compare when we look for other ghosts."

Hawk looked a little uncertain. "We don't really want this filmed.. but.. just for records.. "

BeachHead stepped backwards and faded. "I dunno.. what sorta readings?"

Jason got up suddenly and rummaged in a bag. "Just.. here I'll show you. See, this is some of the tools we use, looking for evidence of ghosts and hauntings. This is a EVP recorder. Usually we record when we try to talk to spirits, because we sometimes don't hear it ourselves in person, but it shows up on the tape. Of course, we can hear you, but it would be good to be able to compare on our machines. And this is a electronic magnetic sensor type thing.. it's just to test for electric or magnetic energy.. can I use it to scan you? To see if the readings change?"

Beach shifted to behind Hawk's chair. "I dunno.. will it hurt? I don't want you zappin' me."

Grant shook his head. "It's not gonna zap you. It's harmless, here.. Jay can scan me." His friend waved the small unit at him. "See? What's it reading?"

Jason showed the screen to Hawk. "See? The room itself has a reading of.. point one.. point three.. and when I point it at Grant.." He waved it slowly past the smaller man. "It says the same sort of thing.. point three.. point six." He lifted his eyes to the transparent figure and walked around to near him. "Can I scan you? See? It won't hurt.."

Beach stepped towards him, looking curiously at the scanner. "I guess." He watched the handheld machine as Jay slowly scanned the room, moving it slowly towards him. When it reached within a foot of him, he suddenly shrieked loudly and vanished, making Jason jump backwards and drop the thing.

"Sorry!! What happened??! What the frig happened??" He snatched up the unit and looked around at Grant. "That never happened before, Grant!"

Before Grant could reply, they heard low laughter. BeachHead reappeared to one side. "That was funny.. you should have seen your face."

Hawk sighed. "Sorry.. I'm telling you guys.. it's been a trial. It was bad enough when he was alive. Now he's got a whole new repertoire of pranks and jokes. Count yourself lucky he hasn't started telling you 'dead Ranger' jokes."

Jason wiped his face. "Okaaaay. That.. that was exciting.. really."

BeachHead narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Ahhh.. you wanna take a punch at me.. admit it."

The stocky man shook his head. "Not on my best day. I wouldn't try punching an Army Ranger on my best day.. much less a dead Army Ranger. Can I actually take the readings now?"

Having played his prank, the Ranger shrugged. "I don't care, as long as it don't trap me in no boxes. It okay, Hawk?"

The general spread his hands. "It's your choice, please don't terrify the nice helpful people though, okay?"

"Alriiight." BeachHead watched the two ghost hunters as they took various readings and compared numbers. "What's that? That's a camera.." He vanished. "Hawk said no film."

Jason shook his head. "No no.. it's a thermal camera, it just shows heat.. here.. look.." He pointed it at Grant. "See? That's Grant.. and see how the room shows up in shades of colors? Watch this.." He put his hand on the tabletop for a moment and removed it. "Look how you can see where my hand was. Neat, huh?"

Beach watched over his shoulder as a shadow. Jason managed to stand still with a real ghost within inches. "It okay Hawk? I don't think you can I.D. nothing from these images.."

Hawk shrugged casually. "I'm leaving it up to you BeachHead. Whatever you feel comfortable with. Jason and Grant know not to distribute any of this. I think that since they've offered to help any way they can, that you should cooperate with them some too." He looked at Grant. "I do appreciate the time that you're taking to help us."

Grant shook his head, staring at the figure who was waving a hand in front of the thermal camera. "You're welcome, anything we can do for our soldiers, even dead ones, and.. thank you. We've been trying to get real evidence for years. Even though we can't use this.. we can't show it to people and say 'See, we're right!', it's still gratifying to know that we aren't crazy. There really are ghosts here. So we can go on looking, and know that we aren't chasing a imaginary thing."

Jason beamed suddenly. "He's showing on the thermal as a cold spot.. but look Grant.. he can make hot spots appear." BeachHead tilted his face to peer at the camera screen. "Even when he's invisible, the thermal picks him up as a figure."

Hawk got up to look at that. "Beach.. you better remember that. Wouldn't want unfriendlies seeing you when you think they can't."

Beach shrugged a little, although he rubbed his jaw a bit. "Yeah.. but what can they do? Shoot me?"

"If it's a covert operation.." Hawk stopped.

Grant looked at both of them. "You use a ghost.. in military operations?" His eyebrows rose. "Is that.. ethical?"

"Whaddaya mean, ethical? I'm a Ranger!" BeachHead stood up from looking at the readings Jason was getting. "It's my job!"

Grant shook his head. "Not like that.. I guess. But just.. making a poor guy work after he died.." He paused. "How did you die anyway?"

Beach walked to a corner of the room and crossed his arms. "I like workin'. And I got shot and died on a battlefield."

Jason blanched. "That's terrible. That you died on a battlefield that way."

Beach snorted at him. "It's the way I'd want to go.. wanted to go. A'course.. I kind of wish it was more dramatic.. like.. a hail of gunfire with me firing back.. that would have been more fitting."

Hawk put a hand over his eyes. "Not again with the dramatic death.."

Beach was already wound up. "I mean really.. a sniper?? Geez.. I wear a danged tactical vest fer a reason.. and then the danged sniper has to go and use steel jacketed rounds? Gimme a break! And after we're pretty much done too! I was jus' STANDIN' there. Could have shot me down in the middle of battle.. but nooo.. he had to go and shoot me down when I wasn't even lookin'. Stupid snipers."

Hawk spoke up. "Beach.. calm down. What's done is done."

"Yeah.. it's done.. it wasn't YOU they shot. Nooo.. even though you was standin' right there, the idiot targeted me. What sort of idiot sniper shoots a danged sergeant when there's a general standing right there?" He snorted to himself. "Hey.. maybe he was aiming for you and hit me?"

Hawk sighed. "Perhaps. But it was a center-of-mass shot. Pretty much a dead accurate kill shot for someone hitting you accidentally. Maybe it was someone that you already shot at?" He shook his head. "Anyway... we should take you to Arlington."

"I guess so." BeachHead scuffed one boot on the carpet. "You think I'll leave then?"

"It's possible." Hawk rose and held a hand out to shake with Grant then Jason. They turned to the partially transparent Ranger.

Grant stepped forward to offer his hand. "Thank you.. for serving in the military. For you know, dying for our country." Beach shifted his shoulders inside the vest, looking uncomfortable. Then he held out a hand carefully. Grant grasped it slowly, and then smiled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He turned loose and stepped back a little. Jason gave a polite nod and he returned it. "Thanks.. your little machines are kind of cool. Good luck looking for other ghosts." He smiled under the facemask. "Sorry about pranking ya. But your face was hysterical."

Jay shook his head, smiling. "Yeah.. I bet it was. Thanks for letting us take the readings. If we can ever help again.. if the cemetery trip doesn't work.. you could always try having him exorcised.. but I don't think he'd like it."

BeachHead looked at the general with alarm. "You wouldn't do that, would you Hawk? You said I could stay!"

Hawk soothed at him, dropping the tags into his pocket. "No Beach.. we won't need to have any exorcisms."

Slightly mollified, the sergeant moved aside for Hawk to head to the door. "Okay.. not that I believe it'd work.. Spirit's chanting and smoke didn't do nothing to me after all." He smirked at the two ghost hunters. "Just smelled bad and set off the smoke alarms. Heh. Dumb mumbo-jumbo." Hawk sighed as he left, shutting the door behind himself. BeachHead jumped and looked at the door. "Oops."

Grant started to step over. "Here.. do you need me to open the door?"

"Naw.. I'm good." BeachHead walked through the wall, hurrying to catch up, vanishing from view as he settled in behind his commanding officer. "That was.. interesting."

"Yes. Once you stopped trying to embarrass me. I can't believe you weren't going to even appear to them." Hawk didn't sound too peeved and BeachHead sighed at him. "I'm glad you decided to cooperate."

"Yeah well.. they jus' wanted to help. Not bad guys.. fer plumbers."

"Beach.. really.. be nice."

"What? Now that I'm dead, I gotta be nice and polite and junk? Man.. being dead really DOES suck."

* * * *

End chapter.

I hope you enjoyed the ghost experts. Next up.. a trip to Arlington National Cemetery where there's an unexpected turn of events.


	12. Chapter 12: Cemeteries are no fun

Chap 12

After consulting with the experts, they go to see Beach's grave. I hope that everyone is still enjoying and please feel free to review or PM.

Thank you for reading!!

* * * *

Arlington National Cemetery. Hawk stood at the top of a hill, looking at a marker.

"Well.. here you are." He blinked rapidly. "God, I miss you a lot. It was a hard thing, burying a good friend. I've had to do it too many times already."

BeachHead appeared fully next to him and looked around. "You're right.. it's nice here. You ain't gotta miss me though. I'm right here." He finally swallowed and looked down to the marker with his name. "Wow. This is... weird."

Hawk crouched and brushed a few leaves away from the base. The carved letters stood out nicely. "I wanted to put you somewhere with honor. They didn't want to allow the burial when we got here, you know. It was just a typical paperwork snafu, but still." He stood up again. "We set it right. I wasn't going to let anything stand in the way of putting our best Sergeant major where he deserved to be." Looking at the shade standing beside him, he felt a wave of sadness pass over him. "Beach.. it's been an honor. But.. it's time for you to go."

BeachHead tore his eyes away from the marker to look at him. "Sir?"

Taking out the tags, Hawk looked at them one last time. "It's time for me to let you go. I'm sorry if it was anything that I did, that held you here." He placed the dog tags at the base of the marker. "Rest in peace, old soldier. You served us well."

BeachHead stared at the tags lying in the grass, tucked against the edge of the marker and then looking after the departing general. "Hawk? Hawk! What.. what are you doing?! You can't leave my tags.. I can't leave if you don't have them with you!" He trotted to catch up. "Hawk.. sir.. what are you doing?"

"I'm leaving. I'm doing what I should have done when we buried you. I'm leaving you here, so you can pass through to the other side." Hawk's long strides carried him further from the hilltop, passing among the many other graves. BeachHead followed after him determinedly. "You need to go on.. to move on and if you're with the Joe team, you won't leave. The ghost experts were right, you could just stay around for years.. that's not fair to you. You deserve better." He shook his head. "Don't follow me Beach.. "

"But.. but sir!! Don't leave me here! I promise I won't prank no one! I'll behave!! I do whatever you want! Jus' don't leave me here! Please!" BeachHead finally ran out of space as they left through the gated entrance. Hawk continued to walk without looking back, reaching to wipe at his damp face once. "SIR!! HAWK!!! Stop!!" Beach strained to take a few more steps, and finally had to stop, panting and in pain with his structure trying to tear apart. He backed up a few steps and stood watching his commanding officer leave. "HAWK!!? Don't leave me here!!"

The general continued to walk away, struggling not to break his resolve. He tried to close his ears to the shouts and pleas from behind him. This was the only way they could help Beach leave. He'd told his faithful sergeant the truth. He deserved to rest, and Hawk wouldn't continue to use him as a tool for the team, not if he could rest eternally. He deserved better, and it was Hawk's fault for keeping the dog tags in the first place. The voice finally faded in the distance, and he took a deep broken breath.

Hawk took a flight back to the Pit, trying not to second guess himself the entire way. He told himself it was the right thing. It was the right thing to do.. even when he had to sit in the room and explain to Duke and Lifeline and CoverGirl what he'd done and that BeachHead was finally gone. He left out the fact that he'd heard the frantic voice for nearly a mile from the gates. He only told that to Psyche-out in a private counseling session. The psychologist had sighed and tried his best to reassure the officer that he'd done what was needed. It hadn't worked very well and Hawk had nightmares interrupt his sleep that night. He told himself again that it was a small price for him to feel guilty if it brought peace to Beachhead.

He'd done the right thing.

He had.

* * * *

A/N I know.. it's sad. Hawk thinks he's doing the right thing by Beach.. but is he really? Instead of breaking here and letting you suffer for a week to find out.. I decided to go ahead and post the next part as well. Yes.. your welcome. I don't use cliff-hangers often.

* * * *

BeachHead crouched at the gate for the second day. Most of the time, he stayed invisible. The grounds-keeper had seen him four separate times and ignored him thoroughly. He supposed that someone that worked in a graveyard got used to ghosts fussing at him. His tags stayed in the grass, tucked out of sight. He'd tried for hours to pick them up, reasoning that if he picked up other items there should be no good reason he couldn't carry his own tags. He could walk all the way across the whole country to get back to the Pit... if he could pick up the stupid dog tags.

It hadn't worked. He finally gave up and circled the area, testing the edges of his boundaries. The quiet cemetery was huge and filled with many many graves and markers of servicemen and women who'd died in service. He had been here in life, paying his respects. Once he'd even participated in placing holiday wreathes on the graves. He'd never considered he would be buried here, not much. Especially not when he could walk up and look at the marker with his name.

Night was much worse. He'd watched the ceremony of lowering the flag for the night at one of the memorials. The Marines that performed it didn't look at him, even though he'd made himself fully visible. They walked away, carrying the flag carefully in formal stance. He'd sighed and stopped following them at the gate. Standing near the gate and watching people come and go as the gates prepared to close, he saw sad widows and widowers, soldiers on business, clerks and guards. None of them gave him a second glance, and he supposed they thought he was a visitor.

It got dark and he wandered around the graves, looking at the names idly. When he was addressed the first time, he'd jumped.

"New?"

He looked at a heavy set Marine. The figure was very faint, and only the lack of light seemed to let him see him at all. "Uhh... I guess."

"You guess? Don't you know when you died?" The arrogant sneer of the lip made BeachHead's eyes narrow.

"Yeah, I know. It's been over a month. You wanna go read my headstone?" He could give attitude right back. "What's it matter to you?"

"It matters because you shouldn't be in this plane of existence at all. You need to move on. Wandering around the graves all night.. it's disrespectful. Go to your grave and stay there." The Marine pointed stiffly.

"Make me! I'll wander around wherever I wanna!" BeachHead huffed suddenly, landing on the ground some twenty feet away. "Whaa?" He got up slowly, feeling his chest. "What'd ya do that fer?!"

His adversary flicked a hand along his dress uniform sleeve. "You'll learn, sooner or later. They all do. It's time for you to move on to your rewards." He looked Beach over with a practiced eye. "You're out of uniform too."

"This is my uniform, you big popinjay!" Beach dodged this time, avoiding the flicker of movement. "Ha! Stay away from me!" He turned and left, ignoring the complaints as the Marine returned to his own grave. "Weirdos.. danged dead Marines.."

By the time the sun came up over the edge of the trees, he was thoroughly unnerved. The few ghosts that lived here weren't friendly and disliked him tracking through their areas of the cemetery. They seemed much more tied in place though, never venturing more than a hundred feet or so from their gravesites and he stayed away from 'their' areas. He'd been scolded several times about his lack of dress uniform. Sitting on his own grave at last, he'd sighed to himself. "Why ya gotta go and leave me here, Hawk? Geez."

The gate opened after the sun came up. The flag was raised carefully and he saluted and waited through reveille. Now, he was back at the gate, watching the people and becoming extremely bored.

"Excuse me.. are you supposed to be here?" He turned to see an older lady. "I saw you here yesterday. I don't mean to be forward..."

He gave a slight nod. "Yes, I guess I'm supposed to be here." She smiled at him and turned to walk away slowly and he followed out of curiosity.

"I'm here to see my husband. Poor man, he certainly would have loved seeing this place." He nodded. "I make sure that his grave is kept up neatly, although one would expect nothing less than perfection here of all places."

"Yeah, the grounds-keepers are pretty good. Keep it all neat and nice." He sighed a little. He missed his mudpits and dust to be honest. Missed the recruits that he'd mentored and intimidated through training. Missed his teammates even when they'd disdained his company or played pranks on him. Most keenly missed Courtney. He wondered if she thought he was finally gone. Would she ever visit his grave? Come to lay flowers or a flag on it? When they'd talked before he died, she'd never indicated a wish to visit anyone's grave. He sighed heavily.

"You don't seem like most of the soldiers. Why aren't you at a grave?" She continued to walk carefully up the hill, and he bent slightly and offered her his arm to lean on without thinking. When she put a hand on it, he twitched but stayed in place. It wasn't much of a drain on him to have his arm solid.

"I done seen all the graves I'd like to, to tell ya the truth ma'am. I know where mine is.. and most of the rest I done paid my respects to." He stepped away when they reached level ground. She continued to walk until she reached a particular grave.

"Well.. I suppose it might get lonely to just walk around a cemetery. Thank you. Such a nice young man, you are. You must have left behind some mighty proud folks." Her smile made him shuffle uncomfortably.

"I guess maybe so. You don't seem bothered by.. ahh.. my state o' being, if you don't mind me sayin' so." He watched her remove the small flag in the ground to shake the dust from the folds of cloth. She replaced it with great care and set a few daisy blooms at the base of the marker.

"Well, now. When you've been coming here for so many years, you start to see a lot more than most visitors. Most of the shades I see don't seem to be able to see or talk to living folks. Once in a while, someone gets a little lost and they always seem so lonely." She stood and gazed at him for a second. "Would you like to show me your grave?"

He blinked and shrugged. "Umm sure. Ain't nothing much to look at." He walked along slowly with her beside him in companionable silence. The chill in the air didn't bother him and didn't seem to bother her in her coat. "Well.. here I am. So to speak. My commanding officer picked out the spot." She carefully picked a stray leaf off the top of the tombstone. "It's a nice grave I guess. As far as graves go, of course. I would prefer not to need a grave yet, but it sure beats Alabama."

She looked up at him. "I assume by your disparaging tone that you're from Alabama as your stone says." He smiled in reply. "Well, we don't all like where we were born. That's why God invented traveling." She frowned slightly at the marker. "There's not much information on your headstone."

He shrugged. "Yes ma'am. You'll get that sometimes. Don't bother me none. My teammates know where I'm planted. I didn't do much that could be put up publicly no how."

She reached to pat his arm and he made it solid just before her hand touched down. It seemed impolite to let her be embarrassed by passing her hand through him. "I'm sure you did plenty, Sergeant major." She leaned slightly to speak softly to him. "You know, the officers never seem to stay behind, I think they rush off to their rewards. It's always you sergeants that seem stuck."

He gave a genuine laugh. "Well.. my commanding officer told me I was just too stubborn to know when to go ahead and danged well die, I guess maybe being stubborn is a sergeant's prerogative." He sobered up a bit. "I'm awfully sorry your husband died."

She sighed at him, gazing off across the field of grave markers. "Well, it was a long time ago. He died on a ship, and I'm very proud of all he did to serve the country." She smiled at him. "You're the first ghost I've seen that wasn't in uniform. Are you sure you're supposed to be here?"

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yes ma'am, I've been told by everyone that I'm supposed to be in my dress uniform, but unfortunately, this is what I wear. It's comfortable to me."

She nodded. "As long as you're comfortable. I have to leave now, dear. Don't wait around too long."

He smiled as he watched her leaving. "Yes ma'am. I see a light, I'll head right for it." He lowered his voice. "Knowin' my luck, it'll be an oncomin' train.." He nodded as she turned to wave at him when she reached the gate. Then he sighed and looked up. "Great.. getting to be dark again. Time to make my rounds of pissin' off other ghosts, I guess."

After watching the evening ceremony and seeing the guards leaving and the night watch arriving, he wandered off again. This time he managed to avoid most of the other ghosts. When he headed back to towards his section of the cemetery, he suddenly felt the familiar tug. "Whaa?" Hurrying back towards his gravestone, he saw a figure in white. "What are you doin? Get away from there!"

When the figure stood, he slammed to a stop. "StormShadow..." The Cobra operative held up the dog tags in one hand. "Put... put those back!"

The gaze narrowed and one hand came up to grasp the tags in an iron grip. BeachHead felt a slight lurch. The ninja smiled at him. "I think not. Cobra Commander is soooo hard to get a gift for.. I think the gift of his own ghost to command might amuse him. So.. come along..."

BeachHead snarled at him, clenching his fists. "Put those tags back!" Instead the slender man walked away, carrying the tags in a snug grip. "StormShadow!! Put them back!!" He stood there, trying to ignore the pull. "BRING THEM BACK!" The ninja disappeared over the edge of the hill, still headed towards the north wall. Beach began to feel the drag as his anchor left, the tug deepening to a insistent pull as the tags were held in the bare handed grip. He finally cursed and followed after the pull, trotting along and trying not to wince when he veered the wrong direction. "STORMSHADOW!! You bastard..."

Once he caught up, he dodged in front of the figure. "Take them back! Take them back now!!"

StormShadow stopped to hold up the tags in a tight grip. "Oh, or what? You'll yell at me? Face it, your commanding officer left them here and now I have them. There's nothing you can do, and I'm going to take you to the Cobra base and present you to the Commander and then you'll be under his control." The smirking expression made BeachHead clench a fist and swing. The ninja dodged with insulting ease. "Stop it. You have to follow me and do what I tell you, I have the tags. You had to follow me when I left with them.. and you'll obey the Commander as well."

BeachHead stopped suddenly. "You'll... you'll take them to Cobra Commander?? So he'll have the tags.." He grinned under the mask. "Okay. Let's go." He waved at the now suspicious ninja. "What? You're right.. look at me under your total control here.. I got no choice.. so let's go."

StormShadow rolled the tags in his hand thoughtfully and BeachHead squirmed slightly. "As long as you understand..."

"Yup.. understand perfectly.. I'm just a helpless captive.. a dead one in fact." He agreeably followed his 'captor' and when the ninja leapt the wall, he simply walked through it. He smiled to himself as he left the cemetery behind. At least he wouldn't be bothered by rude ghosts any longer.

* * * *

End Chapter

Oh my. Yes, Ghost BeachHead has been captured. Poor Beach.... Will he be a captive forever? Will he be forced to work for Cobra? Will he ever be able to return to the Pit? Stay tuned for more.


	13. Chapter 13: Beach vs Cobra

Chap 13

Well... so from the previous chapter.. StormShadow did think the tags controlled Beach.. after all, Beach DID obey the "order" to follow the ninja when he obviously didn't want to when he first grabbed up the tags. I'm glad that at least some people got a bit sad reading of Hawk leaving him behind.

Here's the story of Beach vs Cobra.

* * * *

The Cobra base was a lot larger than BeachHead would have guessed. How a secret organization could build these giant bases in the middle of nowhere was beyond him. He stayed invisible, walking along behind his 'captor' as he passed through the lower levels. Everyone avoided the ninja, scurrying out of his path and looking fearfully at him as he walked through. BeachHead peered around curiously.

"Wow.. how the heck do you hide a place this size?" He brought himself visible and blinked at StormShadow as he entered a lift and poked a button. BeachHead grinned at him and poked four other buttons at random.

"Stop that!" StormShadow got a slight look of annoyance on his face. "Cobra has the best technology there is." He frowned as the lift stopped on one of the floors, waited a few seconds and then continued. When it stopped the second time, Beach grinned at him. "That was silly and childish, and will not delay my turning you over to your new master."

"Oh.. darn." Beach stood patiently next to the ninja, then scooted over to right next to him, within inches. "You know.. I kind of like you. You're a interesting guy.."

The ninja suddenly glared at him. "Step away from me."

Beach smiled. "Or you'll what? Come on.. hit me." He leaned a little closer, smiling under his mask. "I'm a ghost. I'm not afraid of you killin' me or nothin'. Throw a spike at me. Go ahead."

Instead, StormShadow straightened in place and stared directly ahead ignoring him. Beach sighed in disappointment. You just hadn't been ignored until you'd been ignored by a trained ninja. The lift arrived and he followed the other man down some hallways. "Where are we going? Don't tell me he's got some grand ballroom to sit on a throne, not really.." They approached a set of double doors. "Noooo... really? Doesn't he know that grandiose throne rooms are ostentatious?" He was still ignored and the guards to either side pulled the doors open as they arrived. "Good lord.. was the decorator blind or just have a bad case of gaudy?"

StormShadow approached the throne-like chair and bowed respectfully. "Cobra Commander!! I bring you a gift!"

The masked man on the chair turned a bored gaze on him then flicked his eyes to the second figure. "What is it StormShadow? Who is this? Isn't this one of GI Joe? Why is he here?"

The ninja pulled out the dog tags and offered them to the Commander. "He's a ghost.. one of the Joes that we killed in battle and these tags control him. Whoever holds the token, controls the ghost. I stole them in order to bring them to you.. giving you control of your own ghost!"

BeachHead suppressed a twitch as the maniac took the tags in his gloved hand. The gloves made it much more tolerable but he still felt that annoying tug.

"A ghost? You expect me to believe he's a ghost? What sort of drugs are you on?" The blue-clad commander stood and approached them. When he swiped at BeachHead, his hand passed through him and BeachHead jumped backwards. "What's this???"

"Don't do that!! Yeah.. ghost.. spirit, shade.. whatever." The Sergeant major crossed his arms and glowered at him. "Yeah yeah.. you got my dog tags.. good fer you."

Cobra Commander let out a creepy laugh. "Oh this is too much!! I OWN a Joe ghost! Oh yesssss... I have plansss for you!" He rushed to a control panel.

BeachHead turned to the ninja who looked pleased with the reaction he'd gotten. "Don't you get tired of hearing that ridiculous lisp all the time? Couldn't he get a speech therapist or something?"

StormShadow shrugged casually. "You get used to it after a while. I'm not here all that much anyway, he's always sending me out to do stuff." He crossed his arms and stood to one side similar to BeachHead's own stance. "You don't look all that distressed for a dead guy owned by Cobra Commander, seeing as you're a Joe. Are you a turncoat?"

"Hell no!" Beach glared at him. "You wanna ever sleep again, you won't suggest that again, either."

"No offense." StormShadow seemed a bit unconcerned.

Mollified, BeachHead sniffed slightly. "Ain't no reason to be distressed anyway. What's he gonna do, lisp at me all day?" The ninja snorted. "Just to let ya know, I still ain't happy about ya takin' my dog tags outa the cemetery.. wasn't respectful of my grave." He stared at his adversary. "A man takes disrespect to his grave sort of personal."

The ninja sneered at him. "Oh? What will you do about it?"

Beach smiled at him. "Oh.. we'll see. I gotta few tricks up my sleeve, so to speak."

"Oh? I have knives up my sleeves."

"Big danged deal.. you can't cut me, I'm formless mist, idiot ninjas.."

"I'll show you idiot.. I come from a long line of mystically trained ninja masters! I'll figure out something terrible to do to you as a spirit!" StormShadow seemed highly annoyed.

BeachHead turned to him. "Hold out your hand." Confused and wary, the ninja did. BeachHead reached out slowly and grasped it firmly in a cold handed grip. "I can be solid when I really want to." He turned loose and pointed at the ninja's chest. "What do you suppose would happen if I should stick my hand inside your chest.. then make it solid?" StormShadow's smirk vanished. "Yeah, see, I ain't gotten a chance to try that out yet, on accounta I like most of the Joe team I serve with, see? But.. you.. you disrespected my grave.. sooo you know.."

The ninja stepped backwards. "You won't get close enough to try it, Joe."

"Ya gotta sleep sometime or other. I can wait.. I got nothin' better to do. I don't age, you will. If it takes a few years to catch ya off guard... well then..." He vanished briefly then reappeared. "Best part.. no matter how good ninja eyes are.. you can't see the invisible.. and even with yer 'oh-so-great' hearing, you can't hear the heartbeat of someone who's already dead.. now can ya?" His smirk grew. "Sooo. How 'bout them knives ya got up yer sleeves?"

StormShadow scowled and stepped a few paces away. "You just stay away from me. Cobra Commander holds your control tokens!"

BeachHead leaned back, considering. "Oh yeah.. 'bout that.. I gotta go check, see what he's up to. Maybe he has some sorta commands.." He smiled at the ninja. "See you later."

He vanished, making StormShadow curse. Wandering up to the control panel, he saw the codes being put in for contacting the Pit and frowned. Cobra Commander arranged himself in a chair theatrically and waited for the Pit to answer the video call. A greenshirt answered the call then quickly transferred it to Breaker.

"Put your general on!" Cobra Commander seemed pleased with the shocked expression on Breaker's face. The Commander leaned back and toyed with the chain of Beach's tags.

Hawk's face came on and he looked highly annoyed and in a bad mood. BeachHead felt a pang at seeing his commanding officer. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Oh Hawk.. I jussssst thought I'd give you a ring.. let you know my latest plansss." Cobra Commander suddenly let go of the tags, letting them dangle. "I happen to own sssomething you lost."

Hawk's face went pale. "W-where did you get those!!" His eyes searched the screen, but BeachHead was out of sight. "You'll pay.."

The maniac let out a shrill laugh. "No Hawk! You'll pay!! YOU!!! I control YOUR Joe! I have the ghost here.. under MY command now!" He crooked a finger at BeachHead, who casually stepped into view and gave a salute at Hawk.

"Hi sir. BeachHead here." His amused tone didn't escape Cobra Commander.

"You!!! You belong to me now!!" The finger pointed at the screen. "I'll send him againssst you!! Againsst his own teammates!! YESSSS!"

Hawk looked from the insane commander to his missing sergeant. "BeachHead.. what are you doing there? Are you okay?"

BeachHead shrugged and glanced over at the hissing commander. "Well, StormShadow stole my tags from the cemetery. By the way, that place is seriously boring. And the other ghosts don't like me at all, they're pretty weird. It was creepy at night. What did you go leavin' me there for anyway?"

Hawk sighed at him. "I thought it was the best chance of you passing through the veil and all that. Are you okay?"

"Well, other than still bein' dead of course.. yeah, I'm fine. It's not as boring here.. big place. Gaudy decorations of course, but what do ya expect?" He glanced over as Cobra Commander shook the tags at him and screamed. "Oh.. he wants to tell you some more stuff, hang on."

"Sssstop that!! SSSSTOP THAT!!! You're MINE now!! You have to obey me!!!" Cobra Commander held up the dog tags. "OBEY ME!!! Go!!! Attack the Joe base!!"

BeachHead got a perturbed look. "No."

"NO!?? You can't ssssay NO!" The refusal made him stand up from his chair.

"Sure I can.. no. See? No. Oops.. said it again. You ninny. The tags don't control me at all. They just ensure I stay nearby." BeachHead shrugged a little. "Dunno why anyone would think they controlled me."

Hawk spoke up. "We'll get you out of there, Beach.. don't worry."

Beach leaned to speak back at the video pick-up. "Don't bother yourself, sir. I'm fine here. After all, you didn't want me back at the Pit. I'll just hang out here with my new buddies. They haven't met me yet here. I'm sure I can keep busy."

Cobra Commander snarled angrily. "The tags don't control you??? But.." His voice became an evil purr. "But you can't leave. Well Hawk.. I can't send him against you.. but I can keep him a prisoner. You'll have to pay heavily to get him back."

Beach snorted before the general could respond. "He doesn't want me back. If he wanted me at the Pit, he wouldn't have left my tags behind, now would he?" He spoke to Hawk again. "Don't come get me. I'll be fine here." He winked at the camera. "After all, Cobra Commander and I should have a looong talk. We'll get to know each other.. work out our differences, you could say."

Hawk looked aside and BeachHead could hear Duke's voice muttering off the audio pick-ups. Hawk suddenly brightened. "If that's how you want it, BeachHead. We'll miss you. But.. far be it for me to force you to return."

Cobra Commander growled angrily. "Stop talking like I'm not in charge!! I'm in charge here!! Me!!" BeachHead turned to him and smiled. "What are you happy about? You're my prisoner!!"

"Well, if I'm gonna be here.. let's be friends. How about I tell you some jokes?" BeachHead reached to click the button to cut the call off. "I like you.. I'll have to tell you all my jokes.. "

* * * *

Beach watched the commander rush out of the room and smirked to himself. "HEY! I'll wait fer ya to come back!" Turning and looking over the command area, he strolled over to the control panel manned by four elite Viper techs. The techs were trying manfully not to look terrified at the ghost lurking over their shoulders. "What's this do?" He pointed at a panel of controls marked "Fire control" and twisted to peer into the face of the nearest Viper.

The tech stared straight ahead and shook his head. "Classified. Step away from the control panels."

BeachHead hummed softly. "Classified? Sooo.. yer not gonna tell me?"

"Classified.. you're not authorized to know.. HEY!!!" The Viper's fruitless grab passed through the ghost's torso as Beach calmly stuck his arm through the panel. "STOP IT!! We got overloads on the panel! Someone shunt power away from the grid!! DAMN IT!"

BeachHead tutted softly as he withdrew his arm and watched the sputter and snapping sparks as the entire panel began to short out and die. "OOooooo.. tingley. So.. " He smiled benignly and pointed at another section of buttons and screens. "What's THAT panel do?"

"Get away from that!!" The techs were on their feet trying to salvage the destroyed controls. "Don't touch it!"

Giving a sigh, Beach reached out to swipe his hand through the panel and shivered as he absorbed electricity. "Well.. if yer not gonna tell me.. I gotta assume it's dangerous.. and then I gotta do stuff to it.." He shivered again as his hand dragged through the minor power conduits. "Ooooo.. dang.. that kinda feels nice.." He felt his hair stand up a bit as the power surged into his form. "Ooo.. dang..."

"GET AWAY!!" One of the guards rushed up to point a rifle at him. "Step away or I will shoot you!"

"Ha!" Beach's derisive snort made them all rather uncomfortable. "Shoot me. I dare you. Look.. I'll stand still." He spread his arms to the side and waited. "Well? Do ya need a potential threat?" He stuck a hand over a new section of board and raised an eyebrow. "I'm gonna take out this panel.. in five... four... three.. two.."

"STOP!! Step away!!" The trooper lifted the rifle to fire off several rounds.. which all passed easily through the ghost and impacted the control screens behind him and one of the techs. "Oh NO!!!"

"Yeah.. that's sorta what happens.." Beach grinned at the dead tech and the appalled troopers now converging around the control panel. "You guys aren't exactly the brightest bulbs in the box, are ya?" He suddenly had a thought and his face darkened. "While I'm thinkin' about it.. where exactly do ya'll store yer snipers? I gotta bone to go pick with them guys.."

* * * *

Cobra Commander was screaming for his ninja and StormShadow was hesitant as he appeared. "Yes, Commander?"

"GO and do something about that ghost!! He's in the sniper's training area!" Pointing down the corridor, he repeated himself. "GO do something!! You're the ninja!!"

StormShadow shook his head, wincing at the level of noise from down the hall and from his insane commander. "I can't do anything to him. He just turns into mist." He nervously tried to edge away. "I should go look up some information about how to control ghosts... that would be helpful.." Before the commander could stop him, he slipped around a corner and was gone.

Fuming, Cobra Commander stormed down to hallway towards the sounds of screaming and crashes. "I'll take care of this! I'm in charge here!! He has to obey me!!" Entering the huge training compound, he screamed loudly. "STOP THAT!! Stop killing my snipers!!! I SAID STOP IT!!"

Beach looked up happily, turning loose of the latest sniper he'd dragged out of hiding. "Oh what? Sorry.. these guys scream so loudly when I get a hold of them.. couldn't hear you. I was lookin' fer you earlier.." The sniper crawled aside, all his efforts to defend against a person who easily turned formless to avoid being hit or shot had been in vain. It had taken Beach several attempts to get the hang of becoming solid just enough to strike without having to expend the energy to be completely solid. Being pummeled by someone you couldn't hit was a supremely frightening experience.

Cobra Commander pointed at him. "You!! YOU!!! You WILL obey me! Stop killing my snipers!!"

Beach snarled underneath the mask and looked around at the half dozen scattered bodies. It was taking all of his energy he could scrape up to become solid enough to strike at people now, although he didn't want to let on. "Why should I? They killed me first!"

The commander clenched his fists and yelled. "You will stop it immediately!" He tried to stand his ground when the ghost approached him to stand there with his arms crossed and stare at him. "Yesss... you do what I tell you to do! I'm the commander here! I'm in charge.."

Beach suddenly sighed, feeling tired from the exertion. "Okay.. now I'm bored with you." He turned and walked away, passing through a wall to disappear, leaving the commander to sputter and fume at the remaining troopers.

* * * *

Beach figured out rather quickly where his boundaries were and decided the most important spot was the control area. No one seemed to want to mess with his dog tags, so they lay on the fancy desk in the control center. By the time he'd arrived back to check on them, the techs had just finished replacing the screens on the control board. He smiled to himself and wandered over, completely invisible to watch as they got it all hooked up.

One of the techs sighed and made the final connections. "Okay.. feed the power through.. we have to get this up and running before the Commander comes back." They all got more cheerful when the panel's lights all turned green. "There."

Beach suddenly appeared at his right elbow. "Aww.. look. That looks like a smudge... here.. I'll get it." His hand disappeared to the wrist through the screen and he blinked rapidly as the electric surged up into him, popping sharply and making him leap backwards and yelp as he disappeared. The techs were more concerned with the smoking ruin of their gear than the ghost who quickly reappeared across the room. Startled by the sharp pain of the electric shock, Beach composed himself quickly and watched them begin tearing the console apart to put out the minor fire he'd caused. When the panel was opened up, he saw the main power line he'd interrupted. "Guess I do got some limits as to how much power I'm allowed to touch." His quiet voice didn't reach to the Vipers guarding the doorway and he straightened himself up and looked at his hands for a second. He didn't seem to be glowing but he certainly felt like he should.

"What's all this?? What IS GOING ON!!!??" The Commander stormed in and began to berate his troops. Their weak protests that it had been the ghost, not them, didn't mollify his temper.

Beach strolled over to stand right behind the shouting madman. "Yeah.. you tell 'em C.C.!"

The shouting stopped mid-yell and the Commander jumped away from him. "Get away from me! Stop it! You're supposed to do what I command! ME!!"

"Really?" Beach reached up and scratched his ear through the balaclava. "Somehow.. that don't sound right..." He took a deep breath. "Kinda makes me unhappy that you ain't a happy guy right now.. it's kinda my fault you ain't happy. So I should really cheer ya all up again." He smiled, an evil smirk that made everyone in the room a little nervous. "How about I sing ya a little tune? I know lots of cadences.. and lots of songs.."

"No no!" Cobra Commander shook his head and held up his hands. "Don't sing.. just go stand over in the corner and.. uhh.. do something harmless... you don't have to sing..."

Beach took a deep breath. "Awww nooo.. you'll like it.. cheer ya right up. Let's start out with something happy.. how 'bout 'She'll be comin' round the mountain' as a starter?"

There was a distinct twitch and the Commander moaned. "Nooo.. I hate that song..."

Within the first ten minutes all the guards were ready to stab themselves in the ear to stop the off-key warbling. The resident ninja has appeared only briefly before retreating quickly, looking as if he needed a set of industrial hearing protection. Throwing items at the hazy figure didn't seem to even bother the dead Ranger. Everything passed right through him. If anything.. he got louder. Of course, he had to get louder to drown out the screaming from their frustrated leader. Some days it just purely sucked to work for Cobra.

* * * *

Hawk paced back and forth in his office. "This is insane.. why hasn't Breaker found out where that base is? We can't leave Beach there in Cobra Commander's hands!"

Flint sighed at him. "Trust me sir.. he's fine. What can they possibly do to hurt a dead ghost? He's probably driving everyone nuts, pointing out every paper out of place and every boot that needs shining."

Duke nodded. "He's probably fine. He didn't seem distressed at all on that video. Give it some time.. when we know where the base is, we can send SnakeEyes to steal the tags back."

Hawk sighed. "It's been over twelve hours.. I can't believe that Breaker hasn't figured out how to break the scrambling on that call."

Almost as if the name summoned him, their communications expert came rushing in. "Sir!! Call from Cobra headquarters for you sir!"

"Patch it through!" Hawk leaned over the table display. "Cobra Commander! Where's.."

The figure shouted over him. "HOW DO YOU SHUT HIM UP!?" Duke smirked widely and Flint winced. "He won't SHUT UP!!!"

Hawk cleared his throat. "Well.. you wanted him there..."

"He's driving me INSANE!! He sings off-key! He won't stop quoting regulations at me!! I can't make him shut up for even a MINUTE!! I tried having StormShadow threaten him!! HE SCARED MY NINJA!!! Even I can't scare my ninja!! Hawk!!! Make him stop it!!" Cobra Commander looked aside for a minute. "SHUT UP!!! SHUUUUT UP! Look!! Look!!! Talk to Hawk!! Yesss!!! TALK TO HIM!! Just stop that SINGING!!!"

BeachHead's voice was clearly audible. "I wanna be an airborne ranger... I wanna live a life of.. " He broke off and gave them a happy smile. "Hi Hawk sir! Is that Duke and Flint? Hi Flint! Sleep well?"

The warrant officer had to smile. Somehow it was really amusing when you weren't the target yourself. "Like a baby, BeachHead."

"Good.. that's wonderful. It's nice here, sir. I kind of like it. I think I'll stay here." He turned and smiled off camera. "What? Oh no no Cobra Commander.. yer my new buddy... I like it here." He grinned at the camera. "Hawk? Would you like anything in particular? I was thinking of asking if he'd send a few HISS tanks for a certain someone's birthday." He looked aside again. "You wouldn't mind shipping some tanks to a friend of mine, would you?"

"You're insane!! I'm not sending tanks ANYWHERE!! I'm the COMMANDER HERE!!!"

BeachHead sighed theatrically. "I see. Well.." He reached out to the 'end call' button. "I'll have to call you later, sir. I need to share my favorite song with ole' C.C. here." Just as he was switching off, they heard his voice. "You ever hear 'ten thousand bottles of beer' sung?" The scream was cut off in the middle as the screen went dark.

Duke sighed. "You know.. I'd feel sorry for Cobra Commander if he didn't truly deserve it."

Hawk shook his head. "We still need to get him out of there. Sooner or later, it's going to occur to someone that they might destroy the tags."

Flint looked startled. "What would happen if they tried that?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to take the chance."

* * * *

End Chapter

So what's going to happen? At least Beach seems remarkably undistressed over his capture.


	14. Chapter 14: Return, No Refund

Chap 14

Well, Beach has had some fun terrorizing the Cobra base. I think Cobra has probably decided they really don't want to hold him captive any longer....

* * * *

It was midday at the Pit, and Shipwreck was hiding out near the obstacle course. He'd done the morning PT, but was avoiding the motorpool's monthly washing of all the vehicles. It was supposed to be keeping everyone occupied, but Ship didn't particularly feel the need to help out if he could help it. The vehicles would just get dirty again.

He glanced up as the small aircraft suddenly appeared. It was flying too low and was the wrong configuration for one of theirs. "Hey!!"

It passed overhead and he saw something drop. "Incoming!!" he yelled as he ran to the side, hunkering down.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!" The scream ended with a sudden loud "THUD!!" and Shipwreck peered out. BeachHead was picking himself up off the ground, dust settling around him. "Danged impolite ninjas!! YOU BETTER KEEP ON FLYIN' YOU SPOOK!" He began dusting himself off, still cursing.

Shipwreck stepped out, trying to pick his jaw up off the ground. "B-beachhead?"

The Ranger jumped and turned to glare at him. "Shipwreck! What are ya doin' out here?" He crossed his arms and stared up at the sky. "Why haven't any of the SkyStrikers scrambled? Oh.. there they go.." Two jets screamed overhead. "That's better. Get 'em Ace! Shoot his butt down!!" He turned back to look at the sailor. "Hey.. go get my danged dog tags. They landed out there in the mud pit. Danged ninja.. throwin' my tags in the mudpit." He turned his face up to the empty sky. "DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW YA DID THAT ON PURPOSE!!"

Shipwreck looked out onto the course. "The mudpit?"

The shade turned on him, looking irritated. "Yeah.. my dog tags are in the mudpit.. go get 'em."

"You're kidding me. You think I'm gonna go dig through the whole mudpit to find something the size of a set of dog tags? Are you insane?" Shipwreck turned then leapt away as BeachHead turned on him furiously.

"YEAH!! YER GONNA GO GET 'EM RIGHT DANGED NOW!!" The bellow drove Shipwreck into racing out to the mudpit and staggering into it. "Don't you come out 'til you find 'em!" He grumbled to himself watching the sailor hunt through the mud. "Danged fallin' outa planes.. can I fly? Ninja thinkin' he's a funny man huh? Stupid StormShadow.." He glared out at the mudpit. "Ain't you found 'em yet?! Get a MOVE ON SAILOR!"

"I'm looking!! I'm looking!" Shipwreck continued to comb through the mud, looking across the surface for any hint of where they might have landed. "Can't you feel where they are?"

"Yeah, I can feel they're in the danged mudpit!" His bad mood deepened. "Jus' find the danged things!"

It took nearly an hour, and two additional greenshirts helping before the tags were located in the mud. Duke had gotten notified and shown up, with Hawk in tow. The general was pleased that his sergeant had been returned, while Duke had been amused at the method of the return. The Cobra ninja had avoided the SkyStrikers and disappeared into the northeast, putting Beach into a sullen mood when he learned he wouldn't have the ninja captive to pay him back for the insult.

"Sir.. you're not gonna take me back to the cemetery, are ya?" BeachHead was carefully not looking at his commanding officer, choosing instead to watch the three men searching for the tags.

Hawk looked at the ground. "No.. of course not. I'm sorry I tried to leave you there but I really thought it was best for you. It's not that I don't want you back." His guilt clearly showed in his voice. "I want you here.. but.. I was trying to think of what I should do for you.. it was one of the hardest things I've ever done."

BeachHead nodded. "Yes sir. Just.. it kinda hurts a guy's feelings.. getting left behind like that.. all deliberate and all." He glanced over at Hawk. "We don't leave our guys behind."

Hawk heaved a sigh. "I thought it would let you pass on peacefully. I wanted what was best for you. Beach.. you know I wouldn't want to send you away. I just fear you'll end up hanging around here... instead of moving on properly." He suddenly looked at his Sergeant major. "It's really no different than Doc shooting you in the butt with a traq dart for your own good."

Beach's face twisted slightly under the mask. "Yeah.. well.. at least he can't do that no more." Hawk controlled the grin that threatened to break out when he saw the Ranger rub his buttcheek in a subconscious movement. "I didn't never like that none either."

Duke cleared his throat. "We were a bit worried that Cobra would try to destroy the dog tags. I don't know what that would do to you. I'm glad they didn't think of it though."

The Ranger's eyes crinkled up as he grinned under the facemask. "Oh.. they thought of that. StormShadow actually picked my tags up and was gonna toss them into a furnace or something."

Hawk's face paled. "But you stopped him?"

"Well.. not exactly. I told 'em to go on and get rid of my anchor. That way I could follow 'em all over.. instead'a bein' stuck near those danged tags. Once they got the idea that destroyin' the tags would free me to hang out with them whenever I wanted, they suddenly wanted to go chuck the tags into the Grand Canyon or something instead."

Now Hawk looked stricken. "We wouldn't have ever known where you were..."

Beach shrugged. "Don't matter none. I jus' told StormShadow that if he dropped those tags anywhere but back at a base, I'd find him no matter how long it took and I'd follow through with my threats." At Duke's questioning look, he continued. "I told him I'd stick my hand into his chest, make it solid and pull his heart out through his ribcage. I dunno if I can actually do that.. but that danged ninja didn't seem to wanna check and see."

Duke laughed. "I wish I could have seen that."

They all turned at the shriek. Duke grinned and stepped out of the way. "CoverGirl just heard you're back." Sure enough, the leggy ex-model came racing into view.

BeachHead got a soft smile on his face. "Ain't she a runner, though?"

"WAYNE!!" She came barreling up and they saw him bring himself to solid, just so she could slam into him bodily, taking him off his feet and into a heap on the ground. "Wayne!! I thought you were gone forever!"

His reply was muffled underneath her and she got up. He climbed to his feet and shook dust off himself again. "I'm happy to see you too, Cinderella. If I weren't dead already, that sort of greeting would probably do the trick."

"You bastard! I thought you were gone forever!" She swatted at him and her hand passed through him. "How are you back??"

He held up his hands at her. "I didn't go anywhere.. then StormShadow stole my tags.. and I annoyed Cobra Commander so much, he sent the danged ninja to return my tags. He threw them outa the plane as he passed overhead and the tags ended up in the mudpit, I landed over there." He pointed and then shrugged. "So.. here I am."

Duke brightened. "So you can fly!"

"Noo. I can fall. It ain't very danged pleasant either." BeachHead glared out at the obstacle course. "So anyway.. as soon as they find the danged things, I'm back. I mean.. I'm back now.." He sighed. "I'm jus' kinda tired."

CoverGirl reached out to him and he smiled and took her hand in his. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He smiled. "Cobra Commander went crazy faster than Flint did. Oh.. they'll have basically packed up by now.. cause they'll know I'll tell you where it is. But lemme give ya the coordinates of that base." Duke noted all the details and disappeared to put together a attack force.

Hawk cleared his throat. "CoverGirl.. you'll want to go gear up. We'll drop the heavy vehicles in the front lines." She nodded and gave Beach's hand a squeeze.

He reached to pull off the balaclava and bent to kiss her lightly. "I missed you."

"I missed you too.. I'm glad you're back. I have to go fuel up the Wolverine. You'll be here.. right?" She smiled at him when he nodded and then turned to run back towards the motorpool entrance.

"Got 'em!!" Shipwreck lifted the clump of mud up in his hand. "Found your tags, Sergeant major."

"About danged time!" The sailor tried to hand them over and BeachHead tilted his head towards Hawk. "I can't touch 'em.. give 'em to Hawk."

Hawk shook his head taking the tags and shaking the worst of the mud off. "Thank you Shipwreck. You greenshirts too. Go get cleaned up. Prepare for an assault on a Cobra base." He turned to BeachHead. "You need to do whatever it is you do for rest."

"I'm okay sir." His form faded even as he tried to reassure Hawk. "I jus'..."

"Go rest. You did good, Beach. Now go rest, while we go beat the crud out of Cobra for daring to steal our Sergeant major." Hawk turned to walk back to the Pit. "I'm going to put your tags into my safe for now. I know.. it's not the ideal position for you to be able to roam the entire base, but when we get back, we'll talk about putting them back into the lockbox in the motorpool."

Beach sighed lightly even as his form faded to a thin shadow. "Sorry sir.. I'm jus' really tired.."

"Go rest.. you did good.. we'll be back when we're done stomping on Cobra again." Hawk watched the shade beginning to disappear.

The soft voice sounded from near his ear. "Yer gonna watch Courtney fer me?"

"Yes, Beach. I'll watch over her." Hawk turned to go and almost felt the ghost following him. "Beach.. go rest."

"Can't.. yer carryin' mah tags.." There was a pause and then the disembodied voice sounded rather plaintive. "Ah'm gonna miss the battle."

"Beach.. you can come to the next battle. You're fading away now.. so you need to go off and do your resting thing." Hawk swiped his security card and lowered the lift to the office level. He heard the heavy sigh from nearby, although the spirit was still unseen.

"Ah can't go rest until ya stop touching mah tags.." The faded voice began to sound more exhausted.

"I'm putting them down.. almost there." Hawk's steps lengthened and he keyed his safe open and shook the tags one last time to get as much of the mud off as possible. "Rest up."

"..yes sir...." Hawk felt the presence disappear the instant he dropped the battered dog tags into his safe. He resisted the paniced urge to scoop them back up to make sure BeachHead hadn't left for good. BeachHead was dead.. he'd rest and reappear later when the Joes returned from the upcoming battle.. or he'd move on to where his spirit should have been. Hawk looked at the tags for a last moment before closing the door firmly.

As he stood to leave, he took a deep breath and tried to put aside his irrational worry. "Rest well, Beach."

"...Ah will sir... " This time the voice was so faint, he almost missed it. The touch of amusement in it made Hawk smile anyway. His steps quickened as he headed out to join his forces.

* * * *

When the Joe team arrived back at the Pit almost two days later, there was the usual flurry of activity as wounded were taken care of, gear and vehicles were off-loaded and people began on maintenance and repairs. Weapons were unloaded and cleaning and maintenance on them began immediately. BeachHead appeared and made himself useful, after reassuring himself that CoverGirl was back and unharmed. She was more concerned with damage to her Wolverine than herself and he left the motorpool before he got in the way.

"Beach.. can you work on the sidearms?" Flint had paused when he spotted the ghostly Sergeant major. Getting a affirmative reply, he nodded towards the armory. "They could use some skilled help.. if you're up to that."

"I'm fine." Beach headed off down the hallway, paced by Flint.

"Are you sure? You were in ragged shape when you came back. If you still need downtime.. it's okay." The warrant officer's concern made Beach shake his head.

"I'm fine. I was 'down' the whole time ya'll were gone." When Flint started to ask him again, Beach gave him an annoyed sideways glance. "I'm taking a shortcut." He stepped to the side and disappeared through the hallway wall, leaving Flint standing there staring at a blank wall.

"Blasted ghost. That's never going to not be creepy." Flint turned and headed back the other direction.

Beach emerged on the far side of the level and headed for the armory. Once there, his efforts were bent towards dismantling and cleaning the myriad of assorted handguns used in the battle. Dusty and LowLight were there working on the rifles, with Bazooka and SnakeEyes working on some of the larger guns. Handling the finicky little parts took all of his concentration and he paid little attention to the room's conversation.

Dusty's voice cut through finally. "BEACH! HEY!"

Startled, he jerked up, the 9mm handgun slipping through him to clatter across the floor into it's component parts. "DANG IT! What!?" He bent to scoop up the pieces.

Chagrined, Dusty quickly helped him pick up the gun parts, setting them back onto his workbench. "Sorry! You wouldn't respond."

"I was tryin' to work." Settling back on his usual stool, Beach picked up the parts and began to swab them clean again. "What did ya want?"

"I was just telling you how CoverGirl totally kicked butt. I thought you'd be interested in how she did during the battle since you couldn't be there." Dusty settled back into his rifle cleaning and looked over with raised eyebrows. "But if you're not interested.."

"No no!" Beach twisted to look with interest. "Tell me..." He listened avidly as he was regaled by Dusty about how the tank jockey had outmaneuvered several Cobra operatives to take out the armored attack vehicles almost single-handedly. Bazooka added in how she'd also used the Wolverine to shield a troop of greenshirts from incoming rifle fire.

Bazooka nodded to Dusty's description of the Wolverine sliding into position to fire on Destro's elite troops. "Yeah.. and she didn't get hit none either. She's real fast.. fires and zooom! She goes again real fast so she don't get hit!" He nodded again at the ghost. "She's real smart at how to drive and shoot all at once."

Beach shifted himself on his stool and struggled not to grin at them. "Yeah.. she's the best driver we got, that's fer sure."

Dusty sighed longingly. "And she's got it all.. smart.. capable.. gorgeous.. I mean.. really? How many women do you know that are soo beautiful and tall and sexy and also can outshoot most guys, outdrive almost all guys and then give you a single look out of those gorgeous eyes that'll turn you to jelly?" He turned his face towards Beach and abruptly straightened up. "Oh.. not that.. you know.. she's giving me any sort of looks like that.. just her looks in general.. not that I'm looking.."

BeachHead's scowl deepened a bit more. "Yer treadin' on real thin ice, boy."

Bazooka looked at the floor. "But there's no ice in here. Dusty is standing on concrete floor."

The Ranger's glare turned on Bazooka for only a few seconds. "It's a metaphor. Dusty understands me. Doncha Dusty?" He stared down the extremely nervous desert trooper. "Ah shouldn't hafta go remindin' no one 'bout nuthin' around here." The fact that his form was completely solid and beginning to brighten around the edges made Dusty nod repeatedly.

"Yeah.. I mean.. no.. no reminding needed at all. I didn't mean anything!" He held up his hands. "Besides.. why would it matter? She only has eyes for one guy.. we all know that."

Beach growled softly. "It matters." He left it at that and turned back to his collection of dirty handguns. Picking up a barrel to run a swab down inside it, he lost his grip on both items and they dropped through his hands to the work surface. "Dang it!" Leaning on the countertop, he closed his eyes for a few seconds to compose himself.

"Beach.. you okay?" Dusty leaned over to look at him.

"I'm fine." He opened his eyes and glared at Dusty. "I have to concentrate to hold onto things." Dusty nodded and smiled, already back to his normal good-natured self despite the recent snarling from the Ranger. "Go do yer own stuff."

"Okay.. geez.. don't get all ornery over it." Dusty moved aside and Bazooka perked up.

"But BeachHead is always ornery.. that's what you say all the time, Dusty." The infantryman looked puzzled when Dusty tried to wave him silent. "But you do! You say that all the time.. like when you said Beach is too uptight for his own good.. and, and.. how you said Scarlett.." Dusty clapped a hand over Bazooka's mouth and grinned nervously at the suddenly alert SnakeEyes.

"Ahh.. silly Bazooka! He's just joking.. isn't that right, Bazooka?" Dusty made Bazooka's head nod up and down while a muffled negative reply came from under his hand. "Yeah.. see? Joking. Ha ha. Bazooka wouldn't be saying stuff that would get me murdered... now WOULD HE?!" He glared at Bazooka who just looked puzzled. "He's going to shut up and not say anything else. Right?" Bazooka nodded. "Good.. because Bazooka is my pal.. and he doesn't want to get old Dusty into any trouble.. right?" Another nod and he turned him loose.

"SnakeEyes is really mad." Bazooka's declaration made Dusty laugh nervously.

The trooper bent to talk to Bazooka. "No no.. SnakeEyes isn't mad.. why would you think that?"

Bazooka nodded behind him. "Cause he's got a sword out and he's huffing like when he gets all ready to lop off a Cobra viper's head or something."

Dusty went slightly pale and turned slowly to see the commando standing and wiping the length of his katana slowly while eyeing him. "Oh." He smiled nervously at SnakeEyes. "Umm.. Bazooka is wrong.. you know I wouldn't ever think about Scarlett as anything but a teammate.. never ever would I go talking about her.. or.. you know.. discussing her attributes with other guys... umm.." SnakeEyes tucked the cloth into a pocket and twisted the sword before fastening his gaze through the visor on Dusty's white face. Dusty stopped breathing.. possibly practice for the time when his head wouldn't be attached to the rest of his body soon.

"Snakes.. stand down." BeachHead's calm assertive voice cut through the tension. "If'n I can't shoot him fer commentin' on Courtney.. you can't go slicin' him up fer maybe talkin' about Scarlett. At least.." His amused gaze took in Dusty's terrified pleading expression. ".. don't go slicin' on him where I can see it happen. I hate fillin' out that kind of paperwork. Wait until he's somewhere quiet.. and dark.. and alone.."

Dusty swallowed. "Gee.. thanks Beach. Really." He turned to SnakeEyes again. "I really really umm.. never.. you know.. " He backed up against the workbench when SnakeEyes' katana lifted slightly. "I'm really sorry.. please don't stab me!"

Beachhead's amusement was showing as he spoke up again. "Stand down, SnakeEyes. That's an order."

The commando's smooth turn to look at the ghost seated on his stool made them all think of a graceful tiger about to jump on prey. He turned to look at Dusty, then lifted the katana to slip it back into it's sheath on his back. BeachHead gave a slight nod and turned back to his work, while SnakeEyes pointed to Dusty and then made a throat cutting motion before going back to the heavy .50cal he was finishing with.

Dusty edged back over to his stack of rifles to begin working on the next one. Beach smiled to himself and tried to keep his concentration on the parts in his grip.

* * * *

End Chapter

Well.. Beach is back. I hope you're enjoying this fic! Any ideas and comments are welcome, please feel free to review or message!


	15. Chapter 15

Chap 15

Trick or a Treat chapter?

In honor of it being All Hallow's Eve, I thought I'd surprise everyone with an update to an old fic! It's just appropriate. As always, I have no rights to GI Joe, and I make no funds for my writing of fics. Thank you to all my reviewers and readers!

Continued from the last chapter...

* * *

PT for the next morning was truly harsh. BeachHead took out his own frustrations at not being able to participate in the minor battle everyone was talking about on the Joes and greenshirts hapless enough to be on the PT schedule for that day. His harsh voice snapped out at anyone caught lagging or slacking. Dusty managed to garner a great deal of his attention, having to run the obstacle course four times before the Ranger sent him to the grass to count out a full two hundred push-ups extra for daring to whine about it.

By the time lunch had rolled around, Beach had worked himself out of the foul mood and instead was overseeing some of the weapons testing. LowLight was off-base again on some hush-hush mission and BeachHead took it upon himself to organize and record the weapons performance. Joes and greenshirts alike ran various weapons onto the range to check that they were working properly before they were put into the armory.

A full hour after lunch, Beach felt the tug of 'someone' calling for him and sighed. "Stalker.." The lean sergeant looked up and accepted the clipboard Beach handed to him. "I gotta go.. take over for a while?"

"Sure Beach.. I'm not off until 3 this afternoon. Go ahead." Stalker's good humor made Beach frown a little. "What? Go on.. I got this."

"Fine." He disappeared and let himself move to the source of the insistent tugging. Opening his eyes he looked around the hallway just outside the messhall. "Huh.. handy way to get places..." Turning, he watched the shapely tank jockey as she drew a deep breath in, her crossed arms and stiff posture telling him she was annoyed.

"BeachHead!" The sharp tone almost grated across his nerves since he was standing right there. "Blasted stubborn Ranger.."

He leaned forward to speak softly next to her. "Ah'm here.." She whirled and glared at the empty air. "Sorry.." Becoming visible, he tilted his head to gaze at her fondly. "Didja eat yer lunch yet? Sorry.. Ah didn't know it was already lunchtime.."

Her expression softened and she gave a soft sigh. "Yes, I ate.. but I really miss you. I haven't seen you all day." He offered up his arm to her and she suddenly smiled and tucked hers through it to walk beside him. "I really was terrified that you were finally gone. I know it's wrong, but I don't want to lose you... even if it's just..."

Shaking his head, he looked down at her. "Even if it's just as a ghost? Ah dunno darlin'. Ah dunno how long Ah'll stay or what will happen." He felt her hug his arm tighter and couldn't help but smile. "As long as Ah'm here... Ah'm all yourn."

She suddenly beamed. "Awww... your accent gets all deep when you get mushy."

"Ah ain't mushy!"

Her smile widened. "Or when you're mad..." She laughed softly as he rolled his eyes. "Sorry. I just think it's cute."

"Alright alright." Turning loose of her arm, he motioned her into the lift and they rode up to the motorpool. As the lift rose, he tugged off the balaclava and tucked it into a pocket. Noticing her curious stare, he blinked at his pocket and back at her. "What?"

"Well..." She thought it over for a moment. "What would happen if you put your mask down and walked away from it?" She looked into his face as he contemplated it. "Would it just... disappear?"

"I dunno." Running a hand through his hair a few times in his normal attempt to tame it, he sighed. "I sure ain't gonna try it."

"Why not?" They reached the motorpool doors and wandered out into the bright daylight. CoverGirl led the way to the small storage lean-to where the tires and odds and ends were stacked. She settled onto a big deuce tire and watched Beach as he paced around to check the area. When he finally settled next to her, she slid closer. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I mean... fer bein' dead." He glanced up at her slyly and made her smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." Bending slightly, he inhaled softly and then pressed lips to her cheek. "You smell really nice."

"Thanks." She held out her hand to let him clasp it. Tilting her head back slightly, she felt the air move as he became solid and kissed her lips gently. Even with the slight chill, the rare contact made her tingle. When they parted, she let out a soft moan. "Wayne.. I love you."

He ducked his head and shifted around uneasily. "I love you too." He glanced up to see her smiling and couldn't help but return the smile. "I just... I just kind of worry that I'm doin' you a disservice... still bein' here. Things ain't the same."

"Things don't stay the same anyway, Beach." She leaned over onto his chest, trusting that he'd be solid for her. "Lots of things are different now for you.. for us. I mean, it's still good."

"Yeah.. I guess so. Hey!" His tone brightened suddenly. "I get to do a new evaluation for hand-to-hand with Snakes tomorrow." She gave him a puzzled noise and he reached to toy with a lock of her hair. "Duke suggested I go through a new eval so Snakes could say whether I was any good with hand-to-hand combat now. I'm betting that I'll trounce Snakes tomorrow. I got some serious new skill and moves on him now... and he can't pin what he can't grab."

"Oh Beach..." She sighed. "Try not to humiliate SnakeEyes. He's really done well by you for a long time, he's your friend."

"I ain't gonna hurt him but I am lookin' forward to showin' him that I can be really effective in combat... even if'n I can't shoot guns off no more." That admission stung him a little still. She reached to stroke his forearm when he folded it around her and kissed the side of her head. "You gonna come watch?"

"Me and the rest of the Pit, most likely."She grinned suddenly. "I have to get a hold of Ace and put some money down on you." He frowned and she snugged herself a bit closer. "What? I gotta show my support of my Ranger man."

"Alright." He took a deep breath in and curled over slightly to embrace her more firmly. "I was kinda afraid I wouldn't get back here... afraid that I'd never see you again."

She shivered and twisted to kiss him urgently. "Wayne... don't. I don't want to think about it." She sighed lightly and reached to put an arm around his neck and draw him down into another kiss. "Just... I know you can't promise to stay... but promise you love me?"

"Darlin' I do love ya more than anything ever." He shifted to urge her to sit upright. "Sorry, bad timing. I can't hold myself solid for you to lean on much longer." As she slid aside, he sighed and faded slightly. "I'm sorry, really." To make up for it, he leaned over to kiss her face a few times. "Ain't like I can't touch you, jus' can't stay entirely solid."

Enjoying the attentions, she smiled and reached to stroke his face. He tilted his head over to sigh at her touch. Almost on cue he felt the tug. "Dang it."

"What?" CoverGirl sat up and looked at him as he cursed softly. "Oh no... now?"

"Yeah.. apparently I gotta go." He stood to leave and shrugged at her. "I'm on duty. It ain't no different. Just a bit harder to ignore the summons." She sighed at him anyway and he bent to kiss her once more. "Sorry. I'll see you at dinner?"

"Yeah... meet you in the messhall." She smiled at him to show she understood. "It's fine. I'll see you tonight." She watched him relax as he disappeared from view. Getting to her feet, she dusted her pants off and headed back to the motorpool. There were still three dune-rails to tune-up and pass through inspection.

* * *

BeachHead strode into Hawk's office. "Yes sir?" He saw the general and Duke both spin in surprise. "You called me?"

Looking sheepish, Hawk held up the tags. "No... not so much. I was about to move your tags back to the motorpool lockbox and I guess maybe we were discussing you, not so much calling." When Beach looked annoyed, Hawk raised a hand up in apology. "Sorry, but while you're here... are the weapons finished?" He started down the hallway, followed by Duke and Beach.

The ghost shook his head. "Still running final inspections and firing testing. We ain't having failures though, pretty happy overall with the state of the weapons."

Duke spoke up quickly. "I'll be sitting in on your evaluation in the morning."

"Excellent..." Beach's pleased tone made Hawk give him a querying look. "I have a few new tricks up my sleeve, sir."

"You know, you seem to think that every time you do a evaluation against SnakeEyes... only this time, I might actually believe you have the upper hand." Duke stepped to the side to allow Hawk onto the lift before them. "Just remember it's an evaluation, not a competition."

"Yes sir. I remember." The smug voice made Duke sigh. "If that's all, sir?" The nod dismissing him allowed Beachhead to turn to head down the hallways. He had other things to do.

He spent the rest of the afternoon with the weapons testing before sitting with Courtney for dinner. Even though he didn't care for sitting in the public rooms, he did unbend enough to spend an hour in the rec room. Courtney and Jaye inflicted a kid's movie on everyone in the room. Although he'd groaned and made certain to look as if he was extremely put out over having to sit through a silly cartoon, he secretly liked 'Dumbo'. It reminded him of being a kid and how he'd realized that hard work would make most things achievable. Courtney and Jaye loved it for the sappy cuteness however and he'd rolled his eyes half the movie. Once it was over, his girlfriend had gone off to bed and he'd gone to walk the perimeter fence checking on security.

A few hours later, Beach was ambling down the hallways, feeling aimless as he did every night. Almost everyone was asleep and the skeleton crew was only at certain security points. It was lonely and made him acutely aware of his singular nature here in the Pitt. The lighting had dimmed to the nighttime levels, making everything slightly murky. If there were any alerts, the lights would automatically come to full brightness but otherwise, it was deemed more healthy for the personnel for a 24 hour light cycle to be followed as much as possible. The lower levels were deserted even during the daytime hours usually, but he always made a patrol through them to check for anything out of the ordinary. Several Joes had taunted him about paranoia on more than one occasion. He'd usually replied in a heated way that anyone seeking to sneak into the Pitt wouldn't be likely to walk in the front doors.

A muted whisper made him stop and disappear from view. Canting his head to the side, he concentrated on making out the words. It sounded suspiciously like... Shipwreck and Clutch... what the two troublemakers were doing on the lower levels eluded him, but it couldn't be anything good. Bringing himself to fully visible, he smiled under the balaclava. They'd certainly be surprised to see him down here, interrupting whatever plans they were hatching.

As he strode down the hall, he mentally assessed whether there were any other exits from this corridor. It was a dead end into some old storage if his memory served. No outs unless they came by him, so he allowed his boots to make a loud stomp as he advanced on where the two errant Joes were now whispering in a agitated manner.

Rounding the corner, he raised his voice to a intimidating shout. "Whut are ya'll pogues doin'... down... " His eyes blinked at the bright light facing him. "..whut... " For an instant, his mind seemed to click over fruitlessly... bright light... shining down into his glazed eyes... a pain bloomed in his chest for an instant before it passed. "I... I..." Beach paused, his voice going softer. "Is that... I can't..." His steady stride faltered into a stumble as paused, then began to shuffle towards the brilliant beam from above, his slack gaze fastened firmly on the light.

He got within ten feet, lifting one hand to reach towards it when the light flicked out suddenly and loud laughter sounded. "AH HA HA! Got you! Got you Sergeant major! Did you go 'into the light'? Huh? Did you? Did you think it was angels? Ha ha haa... ha... ha?" Shipwreck peered down the empty hall. "Hey, where did he go?"

Clutch looked up at his partner in crime, wiping his eyes as he finally stopped laughing. "What are you going on about? He's gonna kill both of us." He turned to look down the corridor. "Sergeant major, don't murder us... it was just a... hello?" He straightened up to look. "Wait, did he just... disappear?"

"Naw.. old BeachHead is just miffed we played a prank on him." Shipwreck suddenly sounded extremely worried. "Come on out, Beach... it was just a joke... all in good fun, right?" He climbed down from the ladder, carrying the big spotlight under one arm. "Look, it's just a giant flashlight... no big deal. Ha, ha?" He looked at Clutch. "Do you see him? He was right there... you saw him."

"Yeah, I saw him, he totally thought it was 'the light' and everything... but now he's gone..." Clutch swallowed suddenly. "Ship... what if..." He swallowed again. "What if, you know..."

Shipwreck went a little pale. "What do you mean, 'you know'? You don't think... " His voice lowered. "Oh good God... you don't think we made him... go away?" He twisted a circle in the hallway. "Beachhead? Hey dude... Sergeant major? Come on, it's okay, it was just us. You can come out now." A desperate tone came to his voice. "It was just a joke, a flashlight... it wasn't 'the light' to go into, just us, just your pals, you know?"

Clutch grabbed up the cords they'd used to power the spotlight. "No no, there's NO way we made him do anything bad, it's just that he decided to... " He waved a hand vaguely and then rolled the cords up messily to tuck under one arm. "He probably just disappeared for no reason related to anything we did... we just happened to pull a harmless prank right when he needed to... umm.. go away. Yeah, totally. Wasn't us." He tipped over the ladder to fold it. "Help me get this shit bundled up and out of here!"

Shipwreck turned from searching the hallway. "Crap.. we're going to be murderized! We killed the Sergeant major!"

Clutch shushed him frantically. "Quiet! Quiet! We didn't 'kill' anyone! Besides.. he's dead already, so we couldn't possibly have killed him! He's a ghost, who knows... " Clutch grabbed Shipwreck by the shirt. "Besides, he could have been about to pass to the other side all by himself and it had nothing to do with us or a prank. Right?"

The sailor took a deep breath. "Yeah... but if anyone finds out... shouldn't we tell someone? I mean, what should we do?"

"What can we tell anyone? 'Gee, we decided to pull a joke on the Pitt's dead Ranger and instead we accidentally sent him to the Other Realm, sorry, our bad'? My god... we're going to die. They'll completely blame us!" Clutch tried not to hyperventilate. "I didn't mean for anything bad to happen! I didn't know that it could hurt him, I wouldn't have done it!" He began walking down the hallway with both arms full of things. "We can put all the stuff back where it belongs and no one will know anything about it. Come on." He stopped and stared pleadingly at Shipwreck. "Come on. If we did send him to the great beyond, then that's good right? I mean, that's what ghosts should do, right? If he's gone off to heaven then he's happy now. And that's good."

Shipwreck shook his head. "Yeah, but, it feels wrong... we did something really terrible, what if he's really gone forever? Someone is going to notice and then what? We sent away the guy, whether we meant to or not, and Courtney... I mean, everyone is going to be seriously upset with us."

Clutch shook his head. "No one is going to blame us because no one is going to know we did anything, because we didn't do anything. He's gone now, and that's what ghosts do. They just leave and go off to wherever ghosts go." He waved an arm. "As long as no one catches us down here with all this stuff, no one will have any reason to think we had ANYthing to do with it. Right?"

Shipwreck grabbed up the ladder and spotlight and began hurrying down the hallway. "You got that right. Let's get out of here." He looked over as Clutch trotted beside him. "Mum's the word, then?"

"Prank? What prank? We were sleeping in our bunks, snug as bugs. No idea where Beach went. No idea at all." Clutch nodded at Shipwreck. "Not a damn word."

"You got it, pal."

The two Joes rushed away guiltily. The empty dark hallway bore no trace of the prank. The receding footsteps echoed for a few minutes as they left. Then all was silent.

* * *

End Chapter

Is Beach gone? Did the prank trigger him to realize how to go 'into the light' to pass through the veil as he should have at the moment of his death? Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out.


	16. Chapter 16: Confessions

Well, most folks didn't fall for the cliffhanger. But here's the follow-up! Thank you all for the kind reviews! A huge thank you goes to Karama9 for beta work on this. It was a MESS and her help definitely resulted in a finished product that shouldn't need a giant red marker to read.

* * *

When the Joes were gathering for PT in the early morning daylight, the first arrivals were, uncharacteristically, Clutch and Shipwreck. Their early arrival raised a few eyebrows. They shrugged and acted as if it was nothing of note. SnakeEyes gave them a sideways look which made them nervous enough to move to the back of the group.

Jaye stretched her back, raising her arms over her head and going up onto her tiptoes with a long drawn out groan. Although several eyes watched this appreciatively, the usual culprits made no snarky comments. That silence made SnakeEyes look over at the two again. Jaye sighed and looked around after a moment. "Where's Beach?"

Scarlett finished her own stretches and looked towards the Pitt herself. "He's late."

Jaye frowned. "He's never late. Not to PT."

People murmured softly to themselves and slowly went from looking curious to worried. If two of them looked more frantically worried than the rest, no one seemed to notice. Stalker took over the PT exercises and the Joes finished up in short order, heading inside in small groups, still chattering about the missing drill instructor. Jaye trotted to catch up with SnakeEyes and Scarlett. "Hey..."

Scarlett paused and smiled at her. "Yeah? Is your ankle okay? You landed hard going over that wall."

"It's fine. Where do you think Beach is?" Jaye's gaze traveled around the entire area. "I'm glad Courtney wasn't scheduled for morning PT. She'd be going crazy out here with worry." Scarlett hummed to herself and exchanged a look with SnakeEyes. Jaye insisted, "Shana, do you think something is up? Or maybe Beach had something else to do? He can't just disappear now, right?"

SnakeEyes hesitated before he signed to both women. *We don't know what will happen. He didn't come with manuals on what to expect*

Scarlett sighed heavily. "Well, for CoverGirl's sanity, I hope he gets time to say goodbye if you know, he moves on or whatever."

Jaye glanced back at the now-empty obstacle course. "Me too." Her gaze settled on two figures huddled together talking. "What's up with those two trouble-makers?"

SnakeEyes gave a shrug and headed inside. Scarlett only gave them a glance. "No telling. Probably something to do with a betting pool."

One last long look at the two Joes and Jaye turned to follow her two friends inside.

* * *

Shipwreck was whispering urgently at Clutch. "Dude... we killed him! There's no way he would miss PT! We have to tell someone!"

Clutch grabbed the sailor and shook him. "Shut up! Tell who? You want to go tell CoverGirl that we accidentally sent her boyfriend to the great beyond, our bad? She'll murder you and then once you're dead, you'll meet Beachhead in the afterlife and he'll murder your spirit!"

Blinking in confusion, Shipwreck looked at his friend. "Can he do that? I mean... kill my spirit? Other than you know, how he'd kill my spirit here on earth..."

"FOCUS! We need to shut up and figure out what to do! Someone is going to figure out he's gone! And if we don't want to be the guests of honor at a lynching, we need to make sure we don't get blamed." Clutch waited for Shipwreck to agree. "So we need to just play it cool. Beach could still show up any time too. Maybe he went off and did some ghost stuff? You know... haunting somewhere or dragging chains around. Something that ghosts are SUPPOSED to do, other than freaking out a bunch of military people."

"Could be. I'll be a barnacle-eating dog if I believe Beach would miss PT though." They hurried inside. "Maybe Duke sent him to do something?" Shipwreck's voice rose hopefully. "Maybe he's doing a mission that only a ghost could do and that's why he's not running PT?"

"Yes, that's obviously it." Clutch nodded and pushed the lift button a few times nervously. "Let's go work in the armory after breakfast."

"Shouldn't you be in the motorpool?" Shipwreck gave a false smile at LowLight and Torpedo who were walking down the hall. "Hi guys, just going to get breakfast, like every morning, because there's nothing wrong today. Everything all normal, like every day. Like every morning. Yup." They gave him weird looks as they continued down the hall. "Whew. I'm going to have an aneurism."

"Not if you'd just shut up. And I'm not going to go hang out right next to Courtney all day. I'd just up and implode every time she looked at me. She'd _know_ something was up." He lowered his voice. "Women always know things. It's some female thing they have that tells them when guys are lying. They just know."

Shipwreck nodded solemnly. "It's got to do with ovarians. They have those and that must be how they know stuff. They always catch me if I try lying to them too. Probably have these ovararites in their brains and those detect lies and deceit."

"Could be. Let's eat breakfast. That'll look normal." Clutch grabbed up a tray as soon as they walked into the messhall. "If we eat a big breakfast, we won't look guilty and they won't be looking at us."

"Good idea!" Shipwreck held out his own tray. "Give me a ton of eggs. Lots of eggs. Good appetite here, cause there's nothing at all wrong with today. It's a good day." The server narrowed his eyes but plopped two scoops of scrambled eggs onto the tray. "Thanks friend!"

"Yeah, that's subtle." Clutch sighed.

* * *

Jaye watched the two men as they sat down and began picking at their overloaded trays of food. "I think those two are up to something."

Flint looked over briefly before turning back to his stack of pancakes. "Who? Clutch and Ship? They're always up to something or other. What's new?"

"What's new is that Beach didn't show up for PT." Jaye watched Flint pause in lifting a forkful of pancake to his mouth. After only a split second, he tucked it in and chewed, looking thoughtful as she continued to speak quietly. "And those two are acting bizarre. Think it's a coincidence?"

Flint shrugged slightly. "It could be. What could they possibly do? There's no way to lock Beach into a closet now. He's probably either doing that 'rest' thing, or maybe he's doing some mission or training thing." He polished off his breakfast. "He's fine. Those two are probably hatching up some plot that involves all you ladies in skimpy outfits." He started to get up and stopped as he saw her face. "What?"

"I'm worried. I know, it's probably nothing, but I just feel like they're acting bizarre. And I'm worried that something did happen with Beach and what will Courtney do? I know I know... ghost... all that. But still." She fastened her eyes on his. "I think you should go talk to Duke."

Flint heaved a sigh. "Look, it's nothing, he's probably..." His voice trailed off as her eyes went sharp and piercing. "Prooobably fine,but it surely can't hurt to go bring this to Duke's attention, right?"

"Right." She stood up and pecked him on the cheek lightly. "Thanks honey." Jaye walked away, giving the two suspicious Joes a contemplative look as she passed their table. Flint watched them get even more nervous than before. As soon as she left the room, they both dumped their still full trays into the garbage and exited quickly.

Leaving the messhall, Flint thought about the odd behavior but dismissed it. He'd go talk to Duke later today when he had a chance. He was certain Allison was over-reacting to all of this.

* * *

Later in the day, Clutch came hurrying up to Shipwreck. "I think CoverGirl knows."

Looking around the deserted armory, Shipwreck blanched. "Shhhh! Why would you think that?" He checked out the door. "Someone could hear you."

Clutch shook his head. "No one is down here. And she came in the motorpool finally."

"See, you should have stayed away from the danged motorpool! You should have stayed down here! It's those ovarites! She was bound to know!" Shipwreck wadded his sailor cap in his hands nervously.

"Duke came and told me to get up to the motorpool! I couldn't not go and then she wasn't even there and I thought, hey, she's off today, it'll be the best place to be, so I don't run into her! But noo, she had to come in and she glared at me the whole god damn time! Even though I didn't say ANYthing to her! I just kept working on the Jeep and every time I looked at her, she was shooting me these death ray eyeballs! She's got to KNOW!" Clutch tried to take several deep breaths. "She's going to wait until I'm not looking and she's going to brain me with a wrench and then BeachHead will fuck me up in the afterlife. I'm going to get beaten up by a dead Ranger in the afterlife! That's sooo unfair!"

"Calm down." Shipwreck thought frantically. "Hey, so I'm sure she won't actually kill you. So we can let her think it was all you, 'cause she already knows about you!"

"WHAT?" Clutch reached out and slapped Shipwreck in the head. "Look, it was all your idea to begin with! I'm not about to take the fall by myself! I get pinched for this, you're gonna go down too!"

"What's going on in here?" Ace poked his head in. "Do I need to break up a fight or something?"

"No! Nothing is going on!"

"No way, everything is fine!"

Ace peered at them for a moment. "Okaaay. So whatever squabble you guys got, you'd better put it aside. BeachHead's evaluation fight is happening in an hour, get your bets in now." Ace grinned. "Usually it's all SnakeEyes, but this time bets are running heavy on Beach so I'm offering odds."

Both of them looked away. "No no, we're good. We'll be there... sure..." Shipwreck took a breath. "Just... nothing. It's all good."

Clutch nodded. "Yeah, everything is fine."

Ace watched them for a moment and then hummed. "Okaaay. Well, hit me up before time if you change your mind." He disappeared and Shipwreck looked at Clutch a minute.

Clutch raised his hands. "We gotta go tell Hawk."

"We gotta tell Hawk."

* * *

Hawk sat behind his desk, completely expressionless as the two wayward Joe soldiers confessed in a babble of guilt. Both of them seemed to combine taking full responsibility and pointing fingers at each other.

Clutch cut in on the sailor's explanation. "It was just a harmless joke, just joshing with our teammate!"

Shipwreck butted in again. "Our beloved and appreciated teammate! Really... honestly Hawk, we wouldn't have done nothing at all the hurt the Sergeant major! Heck, I didn't think there was any way we could hurt him!"

Clutch nodded. "Not that we were trying to find ways to hurt him. We just thought we'd... you know..."

Hawk raised an eyebrow. "You thought you would engage in a cruel and thoughtless taunt at the state of our departed Sergeant major?"

Both of them stood silently. Finally Clutch looked aside. "We didn't think that... well, that it would..."

Hawk leaned forward slightly, his intense frown making both men twitch. "You didn't think, period." He reached to press the intercom button. "CoverGirl to my office immediately."

Clutch stood up quickly. "Should we go?" Hawk's glares fastened on him and he sat down just as quickly. "We should stay here."

Shipwreck gathered his courage. "But Hawk... you won't tell CoverGirl we were responsible for sending Beachhead away... by accident of course... right?"

Hawk's face seemed to soften a moment. "No, of course I won't. You are her teammates and the team needs to be able to work together in unity." He waited a second while both men sighed in relief. "You'll tell her yourselves."

The identical looks of horror would have been funny in other circumstances. Although both of them opened mouths to protest, Hawk's expression made them stop without speaking and swallow hard. "Yes sir..."

When CoverGirl knocked and stepped inside, the two guilty parties ducked their heads and avoided her gaze. Her defiant stance and hard glare seemed to indicate she had her suspicions that something was going on already.

Hawk's voice was polite as he spoke to the tank jockey. "Courtney... it seems two of your teammates have something to tell you." He watched dispassionately as they pleaded mutely for mercy.

Finally Shipwreck turned to look at her. "Uhh... the thing is..." He glanced away. "We... that is, Clutch..."

Clutch broke in. "Shipwreck had an idea that we should prank Sergeant major..."

Shipwreck glared at him. "And _Clutch_ figured we could prank him if we worked together..." Clutch started to protest and the sailor relented. "And we both decided to do it, but not 'cause we don't like Beachhead... you know, we _do_ like him! Just 'cause he's a good guy and our bud and all." His guilty look made her cross her arms and frown harder. "Look, Courtney, we didn't MEAN to do nothing bad. Honest, we wouldn't ever do anything to hurt Beach!"

Clutch nodded. "We wouldn't! I mean, tease him a bit or pull a joke, but we wouldn't hurt him! And you know, we figured... since he's a ghost and all, I mean, we didn't think there could be any way to actually hurt him or you know... make him... uhhh..."

Shipwreck spoke more hesitantly. "_Help _him... move on... so he could, ummm, enjoy the afterlife." His tone lightened slightly. "Help him go to his rewards and such, because he deserved that heavenly stuff and all."

CoverGirl's eyes narrowed. "So you destroyed Wayne's ghost. You couldn't kill him any more, so you sent off the last trace of his soul. For. A. Prank." Her vicious tone made both men twitch. "And you have the _nerve_ to sit here and act like you did something laudable? Really?"

"We didn't mean to do anything bad!" Clutch spoke up desperately. "We wouldn't hurt anyone! We didn't hate Beach! Honest to GOD Courtney!"

Shipwreck dragged off his sailor's hat to twist in his hands. "Clutch is right, we didn't never hate Beach. We just.. well, we always played jokes on him before he was dead and it was just like the old days, we figured we would just..."

Courtney's fists clenched. "You thought you'd do the most cruel thoughtless thing possible and taunt Wayne with the faked sight of Heaven calling to him? You thought you would bring his hopes up that he wouldn't be trapped wandering the earth, tied to a set of stupid dog tags for all time! You made him have to decide whether he wanted to give in to the draw of the 'beyond' or stay here with the team... with me? This is what you consider 'not bad' or 'not mean'? I mean, God forbid you ever decide to really be jerks! I guess you'd have to kill someone's puppy in front of them then!"

Clutch and Shipwreck both tried to protest weakly. The low rumble from the air silenced them instantly.

"Courtney... that's enough."

She frowned and turned towards an empty corner of the office. "I don't think so. I don't think these two slimeballs could EVER make up for this!"

"It's just bad judgment.. they ain't never shown the good sense God gave a turnip on the best of days... wouldn't be intelligent to expect it now." The corner darkened slightly and a dim shadow formed.

Shipwreck felt his face twitch. "Uhhh..."

The shade turned towards him and brightened and colored into the familiar Ranger, giving them a slightly bemused look. "Uhhhh? That's yer response? No, 'oh thank gawd you ain't gone Beachhead' or 'oh gosh we're so happy we didn't murder yer soul Beachhead'? The best you got is 'uuuuhhhhhh'?"

Clutch leapt to his feet and pointed. "YOU'RE NOT DEAD!"

Beach rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm still dead you dumbass."

Clutch stuttered slightly in shock. "Well... y-y-yeah, but you know what I mean! You aren't gone!"

"No, I ain't gone." Beach crossed his arms and got a smug expression. "You shoulda caught on when Courtney started beratin' ya'll over what you did."

Clutch and Shipwreck looked at her frowning angry face and then back to Beach. Shipwreck was the first to regain his voice. "Why?"

Hawk sighed. "Because the only way she would know exactly what the prank you pulled entailed was if someone that was present told her. Since obviously neither of YOU had told her, then the only other person would have been Beach." He watched the two catch on slowly. "The first thing Beachhead did was come to me and inform me about your actions. When I agreed to let him stay 'gone', he went and let CoverGirl know what happened and what was going on."

Beach snorted. "Like I'd let her suffer just to punish you two jackasses."

Clutch opened and shut his mouth. "But you're not gone... so that's good!" He brightened. "So we didn't do anything wrong!"

Hawk's voice stopped Courtney's angry response. "You did a great deal wrong, starting with the idea that playing cruel pranks is a good use of your energy. But that's fine." Hawk smiled slightly. "Since you've brought it to our attention that you have so much extra energy, we came up with ways for you to expend all that extra energy."

Shipwreck's face fell. "Extra PT?"

"Oh that'll be just the start..." Beach smirked and gave a little nod at CoverGirl who still looked as if she'd prefer to kick both of them in sensitive areas.

She unbent enough to smile. "You'll be cleaning the motorpool floors... with toothbrushes... in the dark."

Clutch and Shipwreck both had slumped a little lower with each condition. Shipwreck gave a little moan. "But but... I don't even work in the motorpool... "

Hawk nodded. "And that's why after you both finish scrubbing the floors clean in the dark, you'll get to spend the next punishment duty scrubbing the testing pools... with toothbrushes... in the dark."

Clutch made a face. "I don't swim really well..."

Hawk smiled. "Then it's good that your punishment will assist you with lots and lots of practice using scuba gear. Now say thank you to Sergeant major for not pulling your intestines out when he realized what sort of prank you'd decided to play."

Both men turned slightly pale and looked at the shade in the corner. "T-thank you, S-sergeant major."

Beach nodded amiably. "Yer welcome. Not that I didn't consider it a bit... guy gets quirky about bein' disrespected that way." His eyes fastened on Clutch. "It's like someone makin' a Jewish slur, you know..."

Clutch ducked his head. "I'm sorry! I didn't think about it. I mean... it seemed like it would be... funny."

"Funny?" CoverGirl started towards him and was halted by Beach's arm thrust in front of her. "Funny! I'll show you funny! You'll walk funny for the next week if you ever try something like this again!" She pointed at them both. "You listen up... I swear to you... you harm Wayne, and I'll kick you so hard... your grandchildren will walk funny!"

Hawk cleared his throat as Beach rolled his eyes. The general glared at Courtney until she dropped her gaze and mumbled an apology. "I trust that there will be no retaliation after today?" She nodded. "I didn't hear that, corporal."

"No sir, no retaliation sir." Her sullen tone left no doubt that she was agreeing only out of respect for Hawk.

"Good." Hawk stood up from his desk. "Now you two miscreants can take yourselves out of my sight lest I decide that the punishments aren't enough..." Shipwreck and Clutch saluted and scrambled out of the office at top speed. "Then we can head to the dojo so that BeachHead can attempt to pass his hand-to-hand evaluation."

Beach's eyes sparkled. "Yes'sir. I'll take the ninja down this time." His determined expression and bouncing step as he took off at a fast walk down the corridor made the general shake his head.

CoverGirl walked at a more sedate dignified pace beside Hawk. "Sir? He's going to get his butt handed to him anyway, isn't he?"

"You know..." Hawk mused for a few seconds as they walked. "He does have a lot of advantages, being able to turn insubstantial, or even disappear from sight. He could give SnakeEyes a run for his money this time."

The mechanic narrowed her eyes at him. "So you're betting on Wayne?"

"Oh no no, he's definitely going to get his ass handed to him in the end." Hawk smiled at her. "He always thinks this will be the evaluation that he bests my ninja. Somehow, SnakeEyes always manages to think five steps ahead and have counters to everything already worked out. I don't know how he'll pull it off this time, but I have faith he'll do it somehow." Hawk nodded slightly. "At any rate, it'll entertain the team for a while and it will also help cement Beach as the same old BeachHead as before. He needs that. The team needs to be comfortable around him if he's going to stay in the Pitt."

"Yes sir." She grinned. "I still put my money on Beach." She lowered her voice slightly. "I'd rather lose the cash than have him think I've lost faith in him."

"Understandable, Corporal. Understandable." Hawk opened the door to the spacious training room. "After you?"

"Why thank you, sir." She stepped into the crowded room. It promised to be an entertaining evaluation indeed.

* * *

End Chapter

Next up, hand-to-hand show down between a Master Ninja and a ghost. I'll try to upload before another 6 months goes by! Thank you for reading.


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